Light
by mingingbent
Summary: In a fight against Voldemort and his croanies, Harry picks up an old watch which turns out to be a portkey. Far away from everything he knows and the battle he was currently fighting in, can Harry get himself out of this mess?
1. Green Means Go

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. I do have take credit for plot and for certain character originale like Aimee Carlisle, her kids and other random and not so random characters.

**A/N:** Brand new idea popped into my head and I had to write it down. Bear with me it is four in the blood morning, so I'm a bit knackered. I'll try to type up a second chapter that's not so vague later. Cheers and tragically yours, MB.

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Light

by

_mingingbent_

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_  
There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

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Chapter One: Green Means Go

Touched by angels, though I fall out of grace  
I did it all so maybe I'd live this every day

_I Never Told You What I Do For a Living_, **My Chemical Romance**

000

The screaming pounded in his ears, he would have loved to clamp his palms down over them with full force, but his palms were already occupied. One he had cradled, blood smeared and possible broken, the other held his wand. The more he pushed on the further into the screams he floundered. It was akin to being in a quagmire, your movements stiff, hounded by the mud all around you. He was faintly grateful for the charm he'd learn to fix his vision temporarily; glasses would have been lost or broken, maybe even both hours before. He tried to think of anything else, but the screams torn at his brain demanding an audience. It was nothing like the Dementors, they were apple pie and ice-cream compared to what he was dealing with now.

It was muddy, it caked to every piece of skin, clothing that had stuck to his body because of perspiration and the heavy rain. Coupled with the screams, and the curses and hexes he deflected the only thought he kept to himself was this: my head just might explode. For a second he actually thought it might be a good idea.

Someone hit him with a binding charm which he deflected haphazardly so that his couldn't move his feet. Out of the corner of his rapidly blurring vision he could dark robes advancing towards him, masks pulled over their faces.

If he hadn't been in so much pain, he would have laughed. There was a blur of light and as he tried to counter curse whatever they were throwing at him – it didn't matter now. The effect witch left him face first in the mud, trying to get to his feet; a small gold antique muggle watch glittered right at eye level and he reached out with his injured hand.

Touching it jarred his senses. He faintly thought he heard someone yelling at him as some of the most intense magic he had ever felt pulled him into oblivion. The last thing he saw was a flash of green. The last thing he heard was the cries of a woman.

"Harry!"

Soft. It was soft. His body hit the ground with a thud and he groaned loudly on impact. His whole body hurt and demanded some rest. But his brain, thankfully quiet (the screaming had disappeared), was rapidly turning its wheels.

_Oh, gods, portkey. _

He had no idea where he was…

_The watch. _

Opening his eyes slowly for it was brighter here; she saw the watch strewn half way across the carpeted floor.

Flipping himself over with barely contained pain fuddled litanies; he started to survey his surrounds. Wherever he was, it was muggle. He was sure of that and it looked like he was on the floor of some pantry.

_Go to get back, got to get back…_

He tried to lift himself off the floor, but the pain was too much, and left him panting, sweat dripping down his brown. He closed his eyes and prayed silently that whoever owned the place was not home or coming home soon.

He was sorely mistaken.

His vision was absolutely shot to hell now, he could only see blobs. But nothing was wrong with his ears.

The woman shrieked and dropped the plate she was carrying, it shattered on impact.

"Oh my god!"

He tried to keep conscious, but his eye lids were heavy and well as his limbs, they felt full of lead.

The woman bent down next to him on the floor trying to help him up, but the searing pain that slashed through his side made him quiver. Letting go of him, the woman faintly told him, she'd be right back before he let oblivion take him once more.

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review please...it makes me happy...:) MB  



	2. Incense and Peppermint

**Padawan Jan-AQ**, **eyeinthesky**, **wolfawaken**: thank you for showing your interest, I hope this chapter fuels the fire some more. Oh and thanks **Jan-AQ** for being my first reviewer. kudos for that and such...

**Prongs J Potter**: Mary Sues...ah the curse of crapping character developement...no the buffalo squashed that herd instinct out of me. thanks for the review...and the concern.

**Vi**: I have to say so myself I write pretty good hook chapters...well atleast on this. I was like - YAY! w00t! you reviewed...hahhah I am such a dork coughcoughreviewwhorecoughcough...where is he and who is the woman?...like I would give that away that easily...ply me with chocolate and loverly reviews and I just might...oh no nevermind you technically find out more in this chapter and the next, I'm sure you already started guessing. And the woman who screamed Harry's name, well it could have been a number of people Hermione (most likely), Lily (in his head again), Molly Weasley, McGonagall, even Tonks or Fleur...but most likely...probably Hermione. And for the final, most important question - Who gets Boy Who Lived...well at this point in this process...in this story...well you'll have to wait...won't you...aren't I evil...MOO-HAHAHA evil like the Gateway cow. oh and by the way I am planning a sequel. shorter maybe...but still a sequel...

_I'm the Masting of Disaster!_

Then who am I?

_The Master of Baiting... Rrrrr... _

cheers hon, _MB_

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. I do have take credit for plot and for certain character originale...bladdy...blah blah...haven't we heard all this way too many times...

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Light 

by

_mingingbent_

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There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

**- James Thurber**

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Chapter Two: Incense and Peppermint

Hear my silent prayer  
Heed my quiet call  
When the dark and blue surround you  
Step into my sigh  
Look inside the light  
You will know that I have found you

_- Dreamcatcher_, **Secret Garden**

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The pain was gone.

"Can you sit up?"

The woman's voice soft and full of concern pulled him back to the present. The room swam a blurry haze of kaleidoscope colors all around him. Confusion at first swept through him and he jumped, trying to figure out where he was. It seemed he was in some kind of bed room. The woman had undoubtedly removed his cloak, jumper, shoes and socks and tucked him into bed.

_Well, this is just perfect…_

The woman sat next to the bed, a muddied, obscure mass of dark colors. As soon as he had tried to raise himself on his own, two firm hands steadied him bringing her slighting into view.

She was a soft feature woman, pale, if her face was anything to go by, with long, wavy obsidian locks that were pulled back from her face in a sloppy bun. Her eyes were dark – he couldn't tell what color they were exactly, but the light glinted off them slightly giving them a shadowy effect. At a glance she was wearing muggle clothes, jeans and a grey shirt.

_Oh, gods…_

His head along with his vision swam again.

She would probably turn him into the police first thing.

_Oh this is just perfect…_

She spoke again, as she steadied him against the pillows, "Can I get you anything, something to drink, some food maybe? A make a mean grilled cheese sandwich?"

"No," he managed to croak out, at the mention of food his stomach did somersaults, he didn't think his system would appreciate it.

"Well I'll just bring us some tea then. A cuppa will fix you up right."

The woman padded his arm and disappeared.

Harry closed his eyes, how would he ever get out of this mess.

He drifted off into an uneasy sleep where Deatheaters, dismemberment, and discord danced in his head. The quick flashes of green tinted the visions and when he came to knowing he was not alone, he groaned grabbing his head.

_Who let out the rampaging Hippogryff, it's trampling my head!_

"Here now, let me see…" the woman sighed and reached out towards him "You can't see a thing can you?"

Harry shook his head widely.

"Well here…" he thought he saw a wand come out of no where.

_So maybe she's not muggle after all._

In a flash, he could see. He watched as the woman pocketed her wand. She looked exactly like he remembered from earlier, same black hair and eyes, soft features wearing muggle clothes. His curiosity peaked he looked around the room. It was stylishly furnished with a dresser against the far wall and a mirror on the closet door. A tea set was balanced on the dresser shinning in the now brighter light. Steam lazing spindled and twirled up towards the ceiling. Nothing to out of the ordinary.

Harry whipped his attention back to the woman who sat patiently in a chair next to the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, she saw his robe, jumper, shoes, sock and wand neatly placed on the edge of the bed.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled friendly enough, "Aimee Carlisle."

"Where am I?" He asked as she got to her feet to retrieve the tea set.

"In my house…" he tried to look annoyed at her playful tone; she continued, "Essex, Connecticut."

In the back of his mind Harry thought she was giving away information too easily, but he wasn't going to press her on that while she was.

She passed over a cup of tea.

"Here you go, fix you right up it will."

Harry took the cup and held in for awhile, stuck between two conflicting inclinations: To drink or not to drink.

The woman who had gone to put the tray back picked up her own cup of tea and turned towards him, a quirk of a smile on her lips.

"I'm not trying to poison you. If I wanted to kill you, I would have had plenty of opportunities earlier. Drink up."

Harry sniffed the tea it actually smelled rather good, and took his first tentative sip.

It was as if sunbursts popped on his tongue. The warm, tart peppermint liquid slid down his throat almost overloading his senses. A tingling sensation flittered through his limbs.

"Mmmm…" He mummered over the rim of the china.

He seemed more awake now, although thoughts of the battle, Deatheaters and The Order far from him. Then the realization struck him she hadn't asked his name or who he was. Who exactly is she?

"Why didn't you ask who I was?"

"You never offered." She held her teacup lightly, long, tapered, pale fingers wrapped around it.

She seemed perfectly calm, as if she had strangers in her house everyday.

"It's Harry Potter..."

She cocked her head in a crisp bow. "The pleasure all mine Mr. Potter, now there is one question I would like to ask: how did you end up in my celler?"

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Harry blinked. _Oh cellar…that's right…_

"I'm not sure…" He dug into his memories searching for his answer "…Miss…I…" the screams, they pressed against the outer recess of his brain, "the watch!"

It came to his memory with a flash of light, Harry mused an invisible light bulb above his head probably went off at that moment.

Aimee Carlisle furrowed her brow in confusion. _Watch?_

"There was a watch…" Harry continued, "…a portkey - that when I touched it brought me here…to your cellar."

"A watch you say…" She seemed to be thinking deeply.

"Yes."

"What kind of watch?"

"Uh…an old watch…y-you didn't find it?"

Aimee arched a tapered, black eyebrow at that.

"No…" she started slowly, "No I did not."

"Oh."

"Yes Mr. Potter, _oh_ indeed."

* * *

Aimee had offered him more tea but he declined, sleep was claiming him again. Slipping off into sleep he distantly wished for Hermione, Professor M. McGonagall, Ron, Remus, Mrs. Weasley really any friendly familiar face, he'd even welcome Mrs. Norris furry figure. 


	3. What Matters

**Vi**: Let's just say Aimee Carlisle has seen many things and there are not many that would surprise her. it's kinda funny I had a slide splitting headache writing it. ahhh...rampaging hippogryffs.

cheers all, _MB_

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. I do have take credit for plot and for certain character originale...bladdy...blah blah...haven't we heard all this way too many times...

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now onto the story...

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Light

by

_mingingbent_

_

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_

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures. 

– **James Thurber**

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Chapter Three: What Matters…

The world won't illuminate what really matters

- _Shattered Faith_, **Bad Religion**

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Harry awoke in the relative peace and quiet of the bedroom. His sleep had been relatively dreamless; he absently thought maybe something in the tea had to do with it. But now, with all the memories flooding back, he was restless. Years of having to be on the watch for Voldemort, Deatheaters, the Dursley, even pranks by Forge Weasley had drilled him and his body to be on constant alert. After all wasn't it Remus who said: _We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit._ Or was he just quoting someone else? He couldn't quite remember. But he did remember that his friends, - his _family_, and the people he loved were a world away, had no idea what had happened to him, he didn't he even know if they were still alive and vice verse. _And…_Harry thought about it more…_that also applies to_ _Voldemort_. Ever since the meeting five months ago when Voldemort thought he had Harry finally with his grasp, and closed their connection in effort to kill him, now Occlumency seemed just like a bad dream. Harry tried to be as quiet as possible as he slipped out of bed, testing his body he took a few steps toward the door; they seemed to all be in working order. He turned around to grab his wand off the bed.

"Lumos."

Carefully Harry made his way through the shadows and into a narrow hall. Gingerly he tiptoed down the hall, passing two closed doors on the way before he came to a small living room, and kitchen. Harry made his way to the front door, and attempted to open the door. But a voice interrupted his quest and Harry froze.

A small voice broke the silence, "What are you doing?"

Slowly Harry turned, a very small child, with dark, disheveled hair, pajamas clinging to his small frame. His startling bright, blue eyes narrowed when Harry didn't speak.

"You know…" the child continued, "Mum won't be too happy if you tried to leave."

Finally regaining the facility of speech Harry spoke, "Uh…I'm Harry. Who are you?"

The child looked up and half smiled. "Yeah Mum told us that. I'm Gavan. I'm four, but my older brother, he's six, he sleeps like a log."

Before Harry could continue his conversation with Gavan, Aimee appeared in her pajama's a slightly sleepy look plastered on her face.

"Oh I see you two met. Sweetheart," she turned to the boy, "What have I said about wandering around the house at night?"

"Yes, mum." Then Gavan turned to Harry and waved, "Bye Harry." And ran off.

"Here," Aimee said gesturing Harry into the kitchen, "You can put that out."

Flipping on the light switch she gestured him to follow, leaning up against the tile counter.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No." Harry replied.

"Me neither."

After a brief moment of silence Aimee looked up.

"So kid…" Harry started to interrupt but she raised her hand, "I've been where you've been. Lost and at a pass in life. You free to stay here for as long as you like, until you get up on your feet again; no questions asked."

"I don't think I can…"

"Well, Harry…" it was the first time she had used his first name, "think on it."

"I will…"

"And dear call me Aimee."

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"Can I ask you a question, Aimee?" Harry was sitting at the breakfast table, a large plate of toast and eggs heaped on his plate, neither of the boys were up yet. Aimee was sitting in her chair, sipping tea and reading the paper. She put her paper down at his query. 

"Yes, what?"

"Why haven't you kicked me out or asked me more questions?"

She didn't even miss a beat.

"Because I told you, you could stay here as long as you need to and well I don't like to press."

"Oh."

"Any other curiosities that need filling, Mr. Potter?"

At that trite phrase, Harry jerked his head up only to see her eyes smiling back.

"Where are you from, I've noticed that you have a different accent from the boys, a bit like…I can't quite place it…but it's familiar."

"Well it should be I was born at my family home near Ipswich, and spent most summers in Wales until Hogwarts that is."

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there it is...I gave you a hint into her backstory...let the theories begin... 

_tada!_ MB


	4. Bad Dreams and Pick Up Sticks

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Note to all: **I am in Salamanca, Spain! w00t, isn't that exiting. now since I do not own a laptop I have been forced to use internet cafes, I found a cheap one here but it wasn't loading the site so I couldn't update, I would have sooner, believe you me. but so, I'm here from school (studying spanish and the like) so my updating might be a little more sporadic, but I'll do the best I can. love y'all, _MB_. 

**Vi**: hey thats a cool name you got there for your other stuff. when I was reading the review i didn't even notice that it wasn't you until I checked my email and got your message. plot what plot...hehheh...yeah as you can see I am slowly giving info about Ms. Carlisle, there is more in this chapter. I try to update as much as I can. actually this fic started out as a excerise to get rid of the fat buffalo that is sitting on my hand, aka writer's block. and now it's the one that I find myself writing to most for. though The Magi and The Rainmaker are coming along smoothly, I should have them updated in the next day or so. theories...bring em on. well tata for now.

**Prongs**: thankies for the review. yeah the first few chapters I had go a bit slow, but it will pick up fairly fast, fairly shortly. I just had so much information on characters, and thus sacrified some of the plot movement. I'm estatic that you like it! YAY!

well on to the next chapter...

cheers all, _MB_

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**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Harry Potter. Now kids, think about it. If I did own HP would I still be here messing with your heads, hmmm...actually that would be kinda cool, writing fanfiction of your own work. 

the song featured in the beginning of this chapter is Somebody to Love by Dean Martin...incredibly great song...if you haven't noticed I listen to about every genre of music ou there. but the classics like Deano, Frank, and Rosemary Clooney are some of my favs. check em out!

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Light

by

_mingingbent_

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_

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

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Chapter Four: Bad Dreams and Pick up Sticks

_"With the sleep of dreams comes nightmares."_  
- **William Shakespeare**

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_You're nobody til somebody loves you  
You're nobody til somebody cares_

The sultry sounds of Dean Martin flittered in like a warm summer breeze. Two dancers alone in the candlelight of a rose tinted ballroom swayed lazily to the beat.

The man his dark red robes of such burgundy brilliance flashed in his lover's dark eyes, and he cradled her to his chest, whispering in her ear. "I love you, mia bella. You are my starshine."

Her silky dress that matched his robes fitted her slender form and she rested against his strong embrace, slowly pulsing with the song.

_You may be king, you may possess the world and it's gold  
but gold won't bring you happiness when you're growing old_

The vision changed and gone was the fancy, candlelit ballroom, gone was the opulent state of dress, gone was the sense of fortune. In a meager, dingy dwelling: one sported old jeans and the other was wrapped in an old shirt. The danced alone, between the shadows and the light - courting each with the grace borne of two souls as one.

_The world still is the same, you never change it  
As sure as the stars shine above_

The broken light fixture promptly fizzled out but Deano still flowed like honey from the turntable in the corner, the two dancers oblivious to anyone but themselves.

_You're nobody til somebody loves you  
So find yourself somebody to love_

Two voices though faint and fairylike floated out of the darkness, "Amo, ami, ama, amiamo, amate, amino."

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Then Beauty surrendered into Darkness.

* * *

She knew this place. She knew this place like the back of her hand. But that didn´t mean she wasn't afraid, her heart fluttering so hard a little bird in a cage. The darkness completely swamped her sense of sight but she could smell the damp dirt and make out the faint traces of smoke. It made her stomach churl wildly with remembrance. In the back of her mind she knew it was all a dream and she kept telling herself that – "it's all a dream, it's all a dream." 

"Aimee!" the loud booming voice shattered her calm and she started to shake.

"Aimee...oh there you are." The voice was closer, probably right over her.

Pain lanced through her scalp as a large hand grabbed a fist of hair and yanked. He tilted her face upward,snagging the end of her chin.

Even though her eyes were clamped tight she knew he was smiling, more a slight, dignified smirk.

Bending down to kiss her forehead lightly, the voice ghosted against her ear, "You´re such a good little girl."

* * *

Aimee woke panting covered in a sheen of sweat. Her dream-nightmare still fresh in her mind. She reminded herself that she wasn´t there and it was all in the past, but that didn't keep the fear from creeping up her spine (or keep it from being that more real). Faintly, Aimee heard voices in the kitchen. Slipping out of bed she padded out of her room to she what all the comotion was about. 

Harry was in the kitchen cooking breakfast, her two boys leaned against the counter eagerly awaiting what looked light eggs and toast.

"Good morning." She managed beforepicking up the kettle and pouring herself a cup of tea.

Letting it steep she turned to observe.

Gavan had left his spot at the counter and had come around in effort to help Harrry who turned to Aimee, pan in hand and said, "Would you like something?"

"Uh, some toast would be nice..."

The kitchen now relatively quiet, Aimee took her toast and went to sit at the table. Gavan and Donovan were not far behind their plates balancing on there small fingers.

Harry finally took a seat, tea and toast in hand.

Aimee wrestled with the paper and finally got it open when Harry mummbled around his toast, "Anything interesting?"

"No."

Gavan and Donovan rapidly scarfed down their breakfast and then turned to their mother.

"Yes." Aimee quirked an eyebrow.

"Cartoons, please?"

"Sure."

Two identical smiles shined back.

"Thanks mom."

Gavan hesitated, "Harry you coming, it's Duckdogers?"

Harry smiled slightly, "Yeah...in a bit."

"Thanks for putting up with the boys." Aimee said after Gavan was out of earshot.

"No problem," Harry looked up, "Where is their father?"

"Who...Aiden?" Aimee took a breath, "He´s dead. Died in an accident about four years ago – right before Gavan was born."

"Oh I´m sorry." Harry wasn´t sure if he was sorry for bringing it up or for what happened.

"No...don´t be."

"I actually have some more questions..." Harry looked hesitant although he was very curious about this woman who took him in.

Aimee smirked slightly, "Fire away..."

"So you went to Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"What house were you in?" He'd been iching to ask that.

"Slytherin...oh don't give me that look, just because you're in Slytherin doesn´t make you an evil snake," she smirked, "-well atleast not immediately. And besides that my whole family bore the green and silver – my mother, my brothers, my ancestors, -me." Aimee heaved a sigh, she didn´t particularly like talking about family, "-though because I was the youngest I bore the brunt of all that is dark in human nature about that side of things."

She turned to Harry, her face quiet and guarded. "I suppose from your attitude Mr. Potter you sport the crimson and gold."

Harry cracked a smile,who knew he -asaman of Gryffindor- would be calmly having a discussion with a Slytherin, albeit an ex-Slytherin, but still a Slytherin. "Yes." He liked to think on the old days.

"Should have known," she countered, "Gryffindor through and through, you are."

Privately Harry shared a laugh with himself over that.

"Did your husband go to Hogwarts?"

Aimee's face brightened, "Yes he did – he was a year ahead of me. Hugglepuff's Quidditch Captain," at the way Harry´s eyes brightened she asked, "Quidditch...you too."

Harry vigorously nodded his head.

Aimee exhaled, "I would have loved to play, but my mother said it was unbecoming and no girls were allowed on the team."

Harry snorted in agreement – somethings never changed.

"So, Harry since you're staying here for awhile I thought you like something to read."

At first Harry thought she´d pull out a spell book of some kind, but in her hands lay a small weatherworn paperback. In crisp brown letters on the cover was - '_The Wizard of Earthsea_.'

"It was one of my favorite books when I was a kid," she continued. "It still is...and there´s four more after that."

Harry picked it up, "What is it about?"

"Oh, warlords, witchcraft and wizardry, you know the like," she smiled, "plus a few fair ladies and an fiery dragon."

That peeked his interest, "I´ll take a look."

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whoa...there it is chapter four, all done and polished. god I hate trying to spellcheck when every word is red, cause your using a comp with a word processor designed for a different language. hope you like. now the wizard of earthsea, reference, well it will come up quite a bit in the next chapters, well I am reading it right now for the second time, man oh man is Ursula LeGuin a genius...if you haven't read them, do...its a command. well I hope you enjoy. The hamsters of doom command you to review, even if it's to say hi. oh and by the way the ama... in the beginning is the conjugation chart thingie of the verb to love in Italian. 

anywho, figured out who Aimee really is...aren't I good. oh come on say it. I am the Cheese! (well now that was a little off topic.)

cheers from Espana, _MB_.


	5. And the World Came Crashing In

**Vi: **Spain so far is a blast...except I had to fight with a Mac my first day here...I hate Macs but finally I found a PC place. yeh Slytherin/Hugglepuff who knew? But I love Aimee and Aiden's relationship, actually I am thinking of writing a one-shot of just them, together for kicks. Aimee's not intirely Welsh...but yeah maybe she is. eh. oh well. and about the Italian...well I think I talk about it later...it was some botched vacation they took. oh and I am incredibly fond of pointy ears and such as well. i hearthobbits. but anyzways I finally got some more comp time so I decided to type up Chapter Five...and I gave you more fodder for your theory mill. oh and here is a stuffed pet Norweigan Rigdeback for being my most wonderful reviewer. - see isn't he cute!

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**_A/N:_** welcome to chappie number five, tis a short chapter but well you'll see...

_**Disclaimer:** _I don't own Harry Potter. Now kids, think about it. If I did own HP would I still be here messing with your heads...actually strike that.

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Light

by

_mingingbent_

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_

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

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Chapter Five: And the World Came Crashing In...

"It was a ball, It was a blast,

It was a shame it couldn't last..."

-_Dirty Rotten Scoundrels_

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The slight breeze whisked the leaves up into lazily circles, bright shades of green dancing in the air. The sun shined through the many trees painting a dappled look on the short cut grass. Harry slumped himself in a secluded part of the park, up against a large tree, book in hand, in sight of Aimee who was sunbathing not far away, and the two boys you were playing tag with the other children. Harry wistfully looked on, _oh what it would have been like to have a childhood such as this_. Diverting his thoughts away from that, he opened the book and on the inside cover he discovered the inscription. 

_To Aims from RJL_

_For Everything..._

Again Harry read the inscription, the loopy cursive looked very familiar: _RJL, RJL..._ The realization struck Harry across the chest like a plank of wood, he knew those initials, that handwriting. It was Remus', he was sure of it: Remus John Lupin.

_But,_ he thought again, _she went to school after Remus and my parents._ _But_, he reasoned, _she must have been there at the same time if I have my timelines straight_. This thought got his whole head spinning and he decided not to think on it. Resolutely he opened the book again, and started to read. _The island of Gont, a single mountain that lifts its peak..._

Harry was entranced; by the second chapter he found it equally interesting that some of the phrases were highlighted like _'To hear, one must be silent'_ and _'...wondered what was the good of having power if you were too wise to use it.' _And this Ogion reminded him sometimes of Dumbledore, especially in his later years. And Ged reminded him of himself, at times especially in his pride.

He began to wonder, wonder on all things especially on himself. Amidst the war Harry had no time to think on his own power, his own magic past the extent that he could harm and kill. No seeing the words on the page, it prompted him to think of his own strength and how he should like to use it: what in essence it was for other than going up against Voldemort.

The snap, the pop of someone Apparating jumbled his senses for a second; he hadn't heard that sound in weeks. Getting to his feet quickly, wand raised he fixed his sights on the park. Four dark robed figures advanced on Aimee who too, stood wand at the ready, their masks obscuring their faces.

_Damn..._

"Crucio!" Harry barked, he scarcely heard Aimee cast a body-bind curse over the blood pumping in his ears.

Harry had a sudden thought – the children – before once again casting another curse, it almost missed it's mark. Before he could cast it again, the Death Eaters disappeared.

Over the din of the very surreal moment, Harry heard Aimee heavily, "Oh shit."

* * *

"I can't stay here any longer Aimee, I love it here with you and the boys, it's been a little paradise but you saw what happened – they found me." Harry rattled on slumped against a chair in the living room. 

"I know...I know." Aimee at the moment was staring at something past Harry, at something in her mind's eye, her lips plastered together and eyebrows drawn in thought.

"Well since they found you," she frowned, "They also found me."

Harry cursed himself, he hadn't even thought of that. He hadn't thought that maybe Aimee Carlisle was hiding as well. Then he though of her boys.

"Oh, Merlin, Aimee, you-the boys..." he trailed off.

"No, I'll find a place for them, they can stay with a friend of mine Helen. She has a safe house upstate New York, somewhere near Albany, but..." Aimee spoke softly still turning over questions in her mind.

"So, Mr. Potter how exactly are _we_ getting home?"

* * *

_We, she said, we. _Harry tried to hook that in his mind. 

"But, you can't be serious, can you?" Harry just stared wide-eyed at her. She couldn't think of coming back, with him.

"I think-no I know for a fact that I've been hiding from my demons long enough Harry, it's time I faced them, and there isn't any better chance that this."

* * *

well, guess away my dear friends...guess away! 

tata for now

cheers _MB_


	6. Shadow

**A/N: **w00t guys I was checkin out my stats and Light is on 3 C2 lists, kudos for those who made that possible and has now...let me check...15 lovely reviews...w00t. I love you all...it makes me very, very happy.

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**icklecassikins**: Now whatever gave you that idea :)I dub this evil genius number 3. Maddevillechilde and I are the others...MOOHAHAHAHA...evil like the gateway cow. Thanks for checking out my little corner of fandom.

**Kara**: thankies for the review...I'll do my best to acquiese to your request. :)

**Vi**: hahhah. bother said Pooh as the brakes went out. Remus is my favorite too...what a coinkidink. Yeah he and Aims know each other, lets just say they definetly have a back story, which will come into the light, hahhah pun of my own thing, soon. Deatheaters- they would too (go after someone for marrying a Hugglepuff) I am typing up the one-shotish thing its called Flirting for the Socially Inept, look for it soon. I love Gavan if you hadn't noticed, isn't he adorable. He and Harry get along so well. well anyzwayz...off we go...

**StrangersPearl**: By the time you get this far, here it is...I love MCR! Yay! I wouldn't call Mrs. Norris friendly either but well...Harry is a bit out of sorts. Yay you love Gavan too.

thankies to all my reviewers...cheers _MB_

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**A/N**: welcome to chappie number six...more for the lovely fodder mil. Its actually the longest chapter I've written a whole 6 pages on the computer or something like that.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter. Now kids, think about it. If I did own HP I be flithy stinkin rich...not tragically broke...le sigh.

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

_

* * *

_

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Six: Shadow

A man travels the world over in search of what

he needs and returns home to find it.

**- George Moore**

The goal is always to make a nice tableau painting with the voice.

The more color I can find, the more shadow I can find –

the goal is always to make more nuance and colors.

- **Cecilia Bartoli**

* * *

Harry knelt down in the grass beside Gavan and let the small arms of the boy envelope him for one last time. He could hear the slight sniffle from the boy, as he buried himself into his shoulder.

"I'll be back." He said trying his best to imitate the robot from the Terminator, (one of Gavan's favorite movies.)

The boy laughed, as Harry stood up and ruffled his hair. Donovan stood, arms crossed a few feet away, he had never really warmed up to Harry, in the time he'd spent in the Carlisle house.

"Come on, Harry, we better get moving." Aimee was shifting from one foot to the other nervously.

Harry turned towards Aimee, before planting his feet and grabbing her hand.

_God, I hate portkeys. _

Somehow in the time it took them to pack and take the kids to Helen's, Aimee had acquired a portkey. He didn't know how, but she did and he was grateful; Harry didn't fancy splicing himself somewhere over the Atlantic in a rush to get back.

* * *

The world swam before his eyes, mostly a dark blur of color. When the spinning stopped, both Aimee and Harry stood in the middle of a dark street. The houses that lined the street looked perfectly muggle, but unkempt and grimy. Harry muttered something under his breath before infront of their eyes the makings of a dirty, dilapidated mansion evolved. Harry, with Aimee right behind him briskly made his way up the uneven walk to a battered, black door putting his hand on the silver knocker, shaped like a serpent he knocked twice.

There seemed to be some rustling inside before the large, heavy door was opened a crack.

A soft voice hastitly whispered, "Harry?", before letting the two travelers in.

Once inside the entrace hall, a very bewildered looking Tonks embraced Harry, before warily looking past him to Aimee.

"Nymphadora Tonks this is Aimee Carlisle."

"It's just Tonks, welcome." She whispered as Aimee nodded her head.

Carefully and quietly, they made their way out of the entrace hall towards the kitchen, trying their best not to wake Mrs. Black.

"DEFILER, FLITH, OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU MUDBLOOD SCUM!"

Tonks had managed to trip over the coatstand and the screams of Mrs. Black filled the stagnant air.

Harry and Aimee rushed toward the portriat each grabbing a side, trying to pull the curtains closed. Finally, breathing labored breaths they did.

"Well, she's rather annoying." Aimee breathed heavily, rubbing her temples. Harry snorted in response.

"Harry! Harry, you're home." Mrs. Weasley's voice called him back to the present, "We've been so worried about you."

Before he could reply, she captured him in a large hug. When she let go, he could see Tonks had appeared, a very guilty looked plastered to her face.

"Oh yes, Mrs. Weasley this is Aimee Carlisle, she'll be staying here."

Mrs. Weasley paused to take in their new guest, "Welcome dear, call my Molly."

"It's a pleasure."

Harry gestured toward the kitchen, "Let's go, before she starts up again."

The four quietly moved to the kitchen, where in Mrs. Weasley offered them some breakfast.

"What has happened?" Harry was very curious to find out what had happened to his friends since 'the portkey incident'

"Not much, though Harry dear, we thought you-you," for a moment Harry though Mrs. Weasley was going to cry, "we thought you died." She said the last word in a whisper, as if taboo.

"But Ronald, Hermione and Remus," He thought she saw Tonks grin slightly, "refused to believe that, and we've been looking for you ever since."

"Well, as you can see I'm intact and unharmed."

"Well I'll be off to bed then." Tonks made her tactful goodbye, before disapearing up the stairs. Harry absently wondered if she and Remus were still sharing a room.

Mrs. Weasley made them breakfast before sitting down with her cup of tea with them.

"Carlisle, I think I know that name..." she said softly.

"Any relation to Aiden Carlisle?"

"Yes, he was my husband." Aimee said with a shortness in her voice.

"Was..." when Mrs. Weasley saw Aimee's expression she ammended, "Oh, I am so sorry dear."

Aimee dipped her head in a nod, some of her long black hair making a curtain around the edges of her face.

"Harry!" a sleepy, but hopeful voice interupted the heavy silence and Harry turned to see Remus Lupin standing in the doorway. He looked more shaggy than he had when Harry had seen him last, and there was more grey in his hair and tidy beard. But there was a smile on his face that reached his sleepy, feverbright, golden eyes.

Harry immediately got up from his seat breakfast forgotten, and embraced him.

"When did you get back?" The elder wizard asked when they had parted.

"Just now, Mrs. Weasley was making us breakfast."

"Us..." the look of confusion that crossed Remus' face was almost comical.

Harry stepped to the side and was about to introduce Aimee, who looked like she would rather have been anywhere else when Remus interjected, "Aimee Carlisle?"

_So they do know each other._ Harry watched the exchange Aimee appeared to be trying to make herself as small as possible, while Remus just stood dumstruck. It was quite funny watching the two, but after a few moments when it seemed Mrs. Weasley wasn't going to help, Harry did.

"So, you two know each other?"

"Yes," Aimee answered slowly, "Remus was a few years ahead of me in school."

So his theory of the inscription had been right. Ooo, he was just iching to tell Hermione.

"Well it's time I got some rest, Mrs. Weasley thanks for breakfast, Aimee who can have the room next to mine, 3rd door on the second floor, it's empty and clean," he looked towards Mrs. Weasley for affirmation, she nodded.

He smiled at Aimee who gave him what most resembled a Death Stare before retreating towards his room.

* * *

Aimee wished to be anywhere but her current place. Even a Deatheater dungeon or her home estate would be perferable, she knew how to handle those. Staring into her tea she though maybe, just maybe if she didn't say anything he'd get her drift and leave her alone. But he just stood there silent. Molly Weasley apparently enjoying the show and the opportunity for gossip, go up slowly only to take Harry's dishes away. But she was still in earshot at the kitchen sink.

"Well...Remus it's nice to see you too. Now I think I crawl into a little black hole somewhere, thank you very much Molly." Aimee said curtly taking her dishes, too, to the sink.

"I...It...What?"

Aimee smirked to herself, that was perhaps the first time she had ever heard him stutter, ever.

"It's good to see you," he said slowly, "Where's Aiden?"

"Dead." She had no time for small talk, as soon as she could Aimee planned to run up to her new room and bolt it, vowing to never come out again.

"Oh Merlin, Aims." Remus by now had wilted into a chair, his face a masked calm. "I'm sorry." He ended softly.

"Well, thanks for your concern." Aimee brisked passed him and as swiftly and stealthily as she could bolted towards the stairs.

_Oh merlin_, she swore to herself, _what in hell am I doing?_

* * *

Once the sun had graced the sky, in swathes of umber Harry had called a meeting and after all the hugs and hello's he was ready to talk business. Just because he had been gone didn't mean Voldemort had stopped his rampaging path.

Aimee had quietly insinuated herself at the back of the kitchen, hidden in shadow. Everyone had been contacted: the Weasleys (minus Percy including Fleur), Moody, Remus, Tonks, Kingsley, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Seamus, Dean, McGonagall, Pierce Monal, and Treiss Duris.

"I've got to stop running. Someday I'm going to stop and he'll catch up with me and I won't have enought energy to face him, I will have spent all it all in the running and the hiding."

Harry kept his eyes on the table not wanting to see the reactions. He had made up his mind but that didn't mean that their reactions would make him second guess or feel guilty.

"Harry..." Hermione was the first to speak up, "You don't have to face him just now...I mean we don't have to decide right now."

Harry looked up into her eyes full of sable concern, "When does it stop? When can I have more than running, and fighting, and killing, and dying? He's been after me for nineteen years, Hermione there is no chance that he'll ease up now, it will only get worse."

There was silence around the table, a heavy silence as if no one wanted to dispute him. Not even Mrs. Weasley or Moody had anything to say but he saw their pursed lips as an intrusion on his logic.

"Harry, but-" Hermione tried again, before he could cut her off Aimee did, her clear voice cutting through the tension in the room.

"It's funny, how you treat him like a child, like he has all the time in the world to decide what needs to be done and that he can't really make decisions because hell, he's only nineteen what does he know of the world, not much. Then you have this whole complex, The Boy Who Lived, The Savior of the Wizarding World, Defier of Voldemort," there were a few twitches around the table, "and you grasp at the paradox because you can't believe in yourselves, you have to believe in something exterior, some idea that you can pat on the head but you can't really get close to, not enough to understand that all the hype is overrated. Harry could no more defeat Voldemort alone than you or I. I know my vote here doesn't count and I know that the people who know me here would call me traitor's kin without even thinking about it. But you have to decide would you rather see what happens if Harry is right or would your rather sit on your asses waiting for the most opportune moment? It's a question you have to answer for yourself and no matter the concequences stand by it."

Aimee finished, promptly disapeared from sight, all the while Harry was half smiling.

"So?" He prompted.

* * *

"Thank you," Harry said as he walked into Aimee's room, she was laying on her back staring at the ceiling.

"Hey I just was telling them the truth." Aimee quipped.

"So, Hero-boy, what's up?"

Harry cracked a smile, "Uh, the ceiling..."

He and Aimee shared a look.

"No I mean, down there, they...uh...they don't like me much."

"I noticed, why?"

"Do you see any Slytherin's at that table. No."

"But as you said, house doesn't count."

"Point taken, but lets just say they have a warped image of things and leave it at that."

Harry knew when to let sleeping giants lie.

"But we came to a conclusion though, that we would try to draw them out at Saimhan."

"Voldemort won't like that."

Harry gave her his most wicked smile, "I know."

* * *

aren't I a evil genius :) cheers all.


	7. Dragons

**Kara: **thankies again...here it is...enjoy :)

**Vi**: Did Remus and Aimee date? hmm...to answer that all I can say is not really...but...well you'll see not in this chappie but in the next one. Now did they want to? Yes... About town gossiping its all fair in love and war dearie...hehheh. Is this story canon? Not exactly...well I guess...yes, if you count Tonks and Remus being together, which theyare...sort of. I'll explain later in chapter nine. Tension ah beuteous tension. The one shot is coming along, slowly but soonly...yay! Harry impersonating the Governator...yeah had me laughing at the thought too. well...cheers hon, and enjoy.

kudos all and now onto the story...

**

* * *

**

**A/N**: welcome to chappie number seven...more for the lovely fodder mil, as per usual. Its pretty longish too. I love Dragons...I love Dragons...lalalala...I love Dragons...

_Draco_: Has she finally gone insane?

_Harry_: I think she has.

_Draco_: Thank god! I was being to think that petulant muggle would never leave us alone...

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter Inc, not that I don't borrow him from time to time. (snatches Remus, Charlie and Harry and stuffs them in her closet) shush...be very, very quiet were hunting for heros...

sidenote: wouldn't I make a great elmer fudd...hahhah.es una broma...

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

_

* * *

_

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Seven: Dragons

She's the only one who knows, what it is to burn

- What It Is To Burn, **Finch**

·

Do not trifle with dragons,

for you are small and crunchy

and taste good with ketchup.

- **Author Unknown **_(isn't that the best quote ever)_

* * *

Harry had stretched himself out on the large couch in the now much cleaner living room. He had just begun Chapter Three: School for Wizards when Hermione interrupted a very, smug and delighted look on her face. 

"Harry look what I found," she pushed a news clipping under his nose.

Harry breathed a heavy sigh, if he ignorned her know he would have to look at it later. And the sooner he got this over with, the sooner he would get back to his book. It was a Prophet clipping, most the words were smudged, it looked like it had come from the announcments section.

"Where did you find this?" Hermione looked even more pleased with herself. "It was in a book Remus lent me on Boggarts...but come on Harry, read it."

He tried to give her his most withering stare before he looked down.

_The Wedding of Aiden Carlisle to _(smugded name)

_Aiden Carlisle, First-Class Auror and future Chaser for Puddlemere Utd. announced today his impending..._

Harry couldn't make out the woman's name but he was sure it was Aimee. Most all the words and inscriptions were too hard to read, maybe if he asked, Aimee would tell him more. Although it was interesting, he had better things to do.

Turning back to Hermione he grinned, "Thanks for the bookmark."

* * *

Harry heard the click on the front door being closed. _That means Aimee's back._ Harry put his book down, and padded out to see her. 

She smiled when she saw him, "Just the man I was looking for, come with me."

Aimee led him through the house, toward the back and finally out to the back porch.

"Look what I found."

Harry frowned at her words, he could see nothing except a garden in disrepair. Aimee smiled apologetically, and with a wave of her hand the illusionmnent charm wore off. The object was covered in a dirty, yellowish-brown tarp.

"Here, come help me." Harry did grabbing one end of the tarp and pulling.

What he saw made him freeze.

It was in need of a good wash and wax, and the engine probably needed work and the chrome needed polishing, but it still was there, intact. Staring back at him was Sirius' bike.

"How?" Harry got out, when he had recovered the ability of speech.

"Well, I was over at the Ministry and at Gringott's picking up a few things and this came to my attention."

"How did?" Harry reached out to touch it. Sirius would have loved this.

"Oh...a little bird told me." Aimee came over to stand next to him, "Put out your palm."

Harry did with compliance, his attention was still on the bike. She dropped a pair of keys into it, "All yours."

Aimee made her way back into the house, a grin on her face, when she had heard they were holding Sirius Black's bike, well she just couldn't resist. Faintly she heard voices from one of the parlour rooms.

"Remus, how can you defend her like that...you of all people."

"Because she's right." She could hear Remus' heavy sigh.

_Oh dear, this should be fun. _

* * *

Aimee made her way into the kitchen, wondering how she ever get around the inquisition to come. Taking a seat the table, she started rubbing her temples hoping that the headache that had breached would be cut off at the source. 

"You know," said a voice behind her, "I don't believe half of what they say, and you shouldn't either."

Aimee turned in her chair to see a young red-headed man (most likely of the Weasley clan) pouring two cups of hot tea. His strong hands were covered with little white scars, that ran up under the long sleeves of his shirt.

"Charlie, right?" Aimee racked her brain for all the names of the Weasley children. She rapidly went through descriptions Harry had given her: Charlie, second-eldest, stocky shorter than Bill, works with dragons, Romania- she hoped she was right.

"Yeah, the one with the dragons and the deathwish, that's me. And you must be Aimee."

"More like the-hateful-woman-who-must-die."

He chuckled at that, a very pleasing sound:all warm and honey-like.

"No," he ammended, "you know they just don't trust much anymore."

He passed her a cup, which she held in her hands for a moment before taking a sip.

"Thanks," she mummured over the rim and watched as he sat down.

"So you're not afraid of me, Mr. Weasley?"

"Please call me Charlie, and no I'm not afraid-far from it. I'll deal with dragons on a daily basis, you are much more refined and cultured than any of those overgrown lizards I keep in the back."

Aimee almost spat out her tea from laughter but managed to pull off a dignified, "I hope so."

Aimee was about to ask him what working with dragons was like before members of the Order started streaming in through the door, for the daily meeting.

"Save me." Aimee whispered, as Charlie gave her his most winning grin.

_Here they come..._

Charlie had scooted his chair over next to hers, when the commotion began. All the members except for Harry who was mysteriously, but no so, absent and McGonagall were seated around the table, eyeing her like a Hippogryff eyes fresh ferret.

"Ms. Carlisle. We are wondering why you are still here? You claim that you came to help Harry, well you have, don't you have better things to do with your time." The scathing remark cut at Aimee, and she fought the urge to run.

Before she could come up with an answer though Charlie whispered, "And no one expects the Spainish Inquisition."

Fighting then the urge to laugh at them all, she cleared her throat.

"I am here because I can do some good. Harry still needs help if he is to defeat the Deatheaters and Voldemort. He asked me to stay, so I have."

_Oi_, she thought, _thisis only beginning ofwhat looks to be very long day._

* * *

Aimee slumped down in a chair, closing her eyes hoing they would finally leave her alone. They about hexed her in there and she wouldn't put it pass them to try it again. At least Charlie seemed supportive. Remus, the generous soul that he was, tried to help her case but she had almost outright told him to in no uncertain terms to 'fuck off' before they crucified him too. 

"You okay?" Charlie took up a seat next to her.

"Yeah. Thanks, though."

"No problem. They can be a lot to handle, especially my family and I grew up with them."

Aimee grimaced at the thought, "So, where did you pick up that obscure Monty Python reference from?"

He raised a chestnut eyebrow before he spoke, "I had a girlfriend for a time in Romania who was muggle-born and she made me watch every Monty Python film and skit out there, said it would improve my knowledge of the world."

"Good on her. I have the whole collection at home, the kids and I watch it when we get the chance."

"Uh...where are your kids?"

"With friends, wasn't about to bring them here, right into the lion's den."

"Or the dragon's." Charlie added grinning.

"Well, I'm glad you find some amusement in this." Aimee muttered, but Charlie's grin didn't waver.

"Aimee..." Harry rounded the corner and stopped in the doorway, "about the bike..."

Charlie sent her a questioning glance.

"Yeah?"

"I really have no idea..." He gestured his his hands, his vulnerability.

"You mean you never-" She looked up at that.

With a sheepish look, Harry shook his head, "No, what with Voldemort on my tail I haven't had time...not that anyone," he trailed off.

"Oh boy...where do we start?"

* * *

See that little blue button underneath me, isn't it pretty. click it and it will bring forth much joy... 

e gags I am such a review whore.

cheerio kids and remember Silly Witches Tricks are For Kids, _MB_


	8. Trust

**Vi: **I adore Charlie, if you can't tell. He is my favorite of the Weasley brothers, next come the twins and then Ron and then Bill, and who needs Percy anyway well to make fun of... Harry and driving...e gads...yes lots of fun there. I have this little scene in my head that I haven't written down yet that is similar, my orig character Mari trying to teach James and Sirius how to drive a stick. hehehe...yeah muy loco there. of course Harry wouldn't make a good driver the boy is stressed and erratic. Well cheers...oh and some one wants to say hello.

_Harry_: Hello MB finally found me. That closet was rather dark.

_Me_: Yep I did.

_Draco_: How come you spoil all our fun? stalks over and tries to pout

_Me_: Cause its fun- and Draco hon, you're not an overgrown bat, haven't we gone over this?

_Draco_: Do not call me 'hon' woman if you value your life!

Harry pulls out wand and mutters a spell, where Draco once stood is a small, white bouncing ferret.

_Harry_: Si, I did learn a new-nonviolent spell. smiles cheekily

_Me_: Well, here's your cookie.

* * *

**A/N**: welcome to chappie number eight...more for the lovely fodder mil, as per usual. Its kinda long this chapter but not as many words as the last two...I think. This time I wrote in one of the outside cafe's en La Plaza Mayor. It was much fun and I had a Coca. 

**Disclaimer**: blahblahblahblah...basically the same thing as last time and the time before...I don't own Harry Potter Inc, not that I don't borrow him from time to time. (snatches Remus, Charlie and Harry stuffs them under her bed) shuush, we're hiding from Voldemort.

_Harry_: But I thought I killed him already?

_Me: _Shush...

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

_

* * *

_

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Eight: Trust

"Never trust a smiling thief throwing dice."

- one of the truths from the **D & D Code** _(me and my silly nerdy friends_)

"Finite to fail, but infinite to venture."

- **Emily Dickinson** _(absolutely wonderful poet that she is)_

"If you were arrested for kindness, would there be enough evidence to convict you?"  
–**Unknown**

* * *

"So, what bothering you today, hon?" Aimee asked as she helped him screw back on the new headlights. 

"Um..." he worried his bottom lip, in almost a pout, "Remus and I, well mostly I, have been working on casting Unforgivables. I just can't seem to get them."

Aimee paused in her minstrations to peer up at him from where she lay on her back under the bike. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he was back to pouting, "everytime I go to cast one, it falls through." Harry was bitterly reminded of his battle with Snape at the end of his sixth year, and that was two years passed.

Aimee pull herself out from under the bike and sat up, looking straight at him. "And this is a bad thing?"

"Whaat?" Harry was very confused.

"Is not being able to perform Unforgivables a bad thing?"

"Yes." Harry shot her a glance, "If I'm going to-"

"Yes, yes I know if you're going to defeat Voldemort, Avada Kedavra and all that jazz. But Harry think about it, what is different about being able to cast a Crucio or Imperio – in the person, the caster – than say casting an Accio."

"More power," He said sullenly not liking where this conversation was going.

"Yes," she said softly, "but there is something else far more important than power."

Harry crossed his arms across his chest in a quiet defiance.

"Oh don't get cheeky with me, Mister. It's wisdom."

"How does that help?" _Knowledge-yes, wisdom..._

"To be able to commit yourself because you power is your self, to cast a thing such as that, you have to believe in it. That's why its so easy for Voldemort to throw out the Killing Curse at whomever, whenever, it's because he believes in it and knows he believes in it, solely, he doesn't care for life. Death and destruction is his game Harry, the reason it's so hard for you to cast something like that is because you still believe in life. And to cast it doesn't mean you have to give up that belief, you just have to ammended it. Make is so that all the hatred you feel is directed into one single thought- death. Think on that for a bit."

Harry creased his brow in thought, "Oh..okay. So," Aimee could see the beginnings of one of his wicked smiles, "What's between you and Remus?"

Aimee breathed, she knew he was bound to ask the question, she had been avoiding Remus like the plague since her first day here.

Aimee took another deep breath before answering, "About the only thing I can do worth a damn, magic-wise, is Potions. So Dumbledore had me transfer up because of my profinciancy in the subject. That meant I took classes as a 3rd year and up with the 5th, 6th and 7th years, most often than not Remus was my potions parter while he was at Hogwarts. Here could you hand me that bolt-wrench," Aimee busied her hands and concentration by tightening one of the bolts.

"Really..." Harry interested was peeked, now he wanted to know more.

Aimee looked daggers back at him, "Well now aren't you the town gossip Mr. Potter, if you want to know more I suggest you ask Remus. It's more his story to tell. Now hand me that there."

* * *

Harry was curious to find out what Aimee had been unwilling to tell him-about her and Remus. He reasoned they must have known each other rather well if she was so clossed off about it. 

But he never got a chance to corner his mentor just yet. Hermione and Ron were deep in a fight on the stairs.

"I can't believe you Ronald Weasley!

"If you didn't always have to have it your way..."

As Harry passed them on the stairs, he turned to them both, "If you don't quiet down Mrs. Black will hear you."

Hermione glared at Harry, "Oh, you're just trying to get Ron off the hook, I know your plan..oooo...always getting each other out of trouble...you both...I could just-" It seemed Hermione was at a loss for word in her aggravated state, Harry just shrugged and continued up the stairs.

As he reached the top of the stairs Mrs. Black's voice thundered through the house (defiler, filth and what not) and he could hear Aimee growl from the porch doorway, "Shut up, you old hag before one of us finds a way to shut you up permanently."

* * *

'_...It must follow knowlegde, and serve need. To light a candle is to cast a shadow...'_

"Harry," Remus soft, cultured voice disturbed his thoughts, and he placed the book aside, "You asked for me?"

For a moment Harry had forgotten why he wanted to see Remus in the first place.

"I have a question," Harry wasn't sure how to phrase it.

Remus took a seat (indian style; his hands on his knees) in one of the large chairs. "Yes."

Harry immediately lost his intial trepidation at the man's easy going manner.

"About you and Aimee?"

Remus' face didn't change.

Harry worried his bottom lip, "I tried to ask her but she wouldn't tell me more than you were potions partners at Hogwarts, said it wasn't her story to tell."

Remus raised an eybrow and a curious expression flitted across his face. "That's what she said?"

"Yes, that is was more your story." Harry now had such and itch to find out more.

"Well," Remus looked uncomfortable for a moment, "You must understand that Aimee is naturally a very private person. She and I-well-" he looked uncomfortable again, "She helped me out during some hard times in my later years at Hogwarts." His tone changed rapidly, "I am sincerely glad it was she who found you Harry."

Remus' gaze seemed off in the distance before it returned to Harry. He gave him a trite smile.

Harry wanted to say, 'is that it?', Remus seemed as closed off as Aimee about the subject.

"Well she did give me this to read." Harry picked up the book and offered it to Remus.

He looked duly suprised to see it and opened it up immediately to the inside cover. His fingers brushed across the inscription, when he saw Harry staring he offered up a sheepish grin.

"I had no idea she kept it."

"What did you give it to her for?"

"Ah the truth of it isn't that simple."

_

* * *

FLASHBACK _

"Remus," Aimee grabbed his elbow sharply to get him to stop, when he did. She stopped and leaned over on her knees, her breaths labored from running.

Remus turned from her back to the Marauders; James looked pensive, Sirius looked like if he had the chance he'd hex her, Peter looked scared.

Remus gestured for them to continue on without him, "I'll catch up with ya in a bit."

James nodded, his messy black hair flying in all different directions, the side of Sirius' lip twitched in what might of been a scowl, Peter kept on wide-eyed.

"Come on lads, we'll catch up back in the Common Room."

Remus was privately gracious for James' decorum, as he managed to drag Sirius and Peter away, though Sirius seemed inclinded to stay put.

Aimee had meanwhile caught her breath and was leaning back ahain one of the collums. "You wanted to see me?" The third year asked.

"Yes, I wanted to thank you."

Aimee shook her head, and half smiled, "You didn't have to, but no wait-" she raised her fingers to his lips, he seemed ambivalent to the touch, "I want you to know this: what happened last October was entirely my fault," he looked reproachful at the notion, "No I know it was all my fault. The least I could do was make sure nothing of that sort happened again." Aimee pulled her fingers away.

"Aims-" He broke in.

"Remus." She took on the tone Prof. McGonagall often used when telling James or Sirius off.

"My brother is the biggest git in existence, well maybe not – Lucius Malfoy and Walden McNair have that title owned. But he's still a git, and he's still my brother. I still have some weight there. The least I could do was tell him to shove off."

Remus looked thankful and smiled a bit. Then dug into his satchel bag.

"Enough about gits. For all the trouble I've caused you here."

"It was no trouble-" Aimee reached out and Remus pressed a wrapped square gift into her hands.

It was wrapped with what suspiciously looked like sued Christmas wrapping bound together with a spell. Aimee held it gingerly.

"Go ahead," Remus chewed his lip nervously and Aimee couldn't help but smile before she tore furiously at the packing.

When she had revealed the gift her, she was very surprised and could only mananged an "Oh..."

When she recovered she took the book like a lover, holding it carefully with her fingers, "Remus...", her voice took on a dreamy tone.

"It's used, that's all I could get." He looked toward the ground, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets, "It was mine before."

"Remus," She looked at him with wide-eyes.

After putting the book back in the wrapping and then into her bag, she lauched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.

Remus blushed brightly.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." She said when they broke apart, "How did you know?"

Remus grinned slightly and there was a little madness in his eyes, "Oh just a guess."

Aimee grinned.

Then came the ackward moments of silence that always happened when they were together.

"Um..." Aimee broke the silence and shifted her weight from on foot to the other.

"Yeah..." Remus gestured the way his friends had gone, "I should get back..."

"Yeah..." Aimee looked at him and caught his slightly wistful look before his face regained it calm composure. "They might come back looking."

Remus took a sharp breath at that comment and looked back at Aimee, but she was gone.

_END FLASHBACK _

* * *

Remus smiled at the memory. 

Harry was looking at his quizzically.

"Yes?"

"Remus can I have the book back?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

* * *

"So Harry what is the first rule?" Aimee smirked at him 

"No using magic." Harry was standing leaning on a support beam, arms folded across his chest.

"Correct."

"What's the second rule?"

"No scaring Muggles." She could see the beginnings of a scowl.

"Right. And what's the third and final rule?"

"This is a Dictatorship, not a Democracy and you are Hitler." Aimee could see a smile forming on his lips as he tried to scowl.

"Now...let's begin."

_Oi, this will be great fun. Reminded me what gave me this idea in the first place..._

Aimee smiled widely at Harry to cover up her jitters and gestured toward the bike.

* * *

aren't I incredibly evil...MOHAHAHAH 

_Draco_: No, your just a PotterValdemarHornblower or should I say Kennedy obsessed muggle with nefarious plots.

_Me_: Hey I thought you were a ferret.

_Draco_: Meh...was...Apparently my aunt Bella isn't a morning person.

please review, it maketh me joyous.

and remember Muggles, Wizards don't kill People. Spells Do!

cheers _MB_


	9. After Hours

**Vi:** ahhh pouting potterdom boys...run away run away...Remus and Aimee are cute, but Aiden and Aimee are cuter, their fic is up, two chapters now all thanks to you...hehehe heres the link: Flirting For the Socially Ineptyay! about what her brother did, you already know so I'm not tellin ya...you'll just have to figure it out...nahnahnah...I'm so evil

_Voldemort_: No I am.

_Me_: Where the fuck did you come from?

_Voldemort_: -evil stares- Really why would I tell you that you silly muggle.

_Me_: Why does everyone have this urge to call me silly muggle?

The cast in my head shrugs.

_Harry: _Don't call her silly... -stabbes Voldemort-

_Voldemort: _ahhhh...Death...

_Me_: Harry you just killed Voldemort!

Harry holding knife dripping with blood, stares at it: So I did.

* * *

**A/N**: welcome to chappie number nine, tis a short chapter, a filler chapter...mainly just a lot of fun. enjoy 

**Disclaimer**: blahblahblahblah...basically the same thing as last time and the time before...blahblahblah-don't own-bladyblahblah-would be rich-bladyblahblah-am not-blahblahblah-le sigh-blahblahblahblah

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

_

* * *

_

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Nine: After Hours

-

and she takes another step

slowly she opens the door

check that he is sleeping

pick up all the broken glass

and furniture on the floor

_- Two Beds and a Coffee Machine_, **Savage Garden**

**-**

There is something haunting

in the light of the moon;

it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul,

and something of its inconceivable mystery.

**- Joseph Conrad**

* * *

_Is it the moon or am I going mad?_

The moon hung in the sky like a great yellow giant, round and looming, illuminating the night in a rich ochre glow. Ready to consume all in its wrath. And it was still an hour before full moonrise.

As Aimee padded down the hallway, a smoking goblet in hand, she could hear Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin bickering. She half-smiled, they rememinded her of Aiden and herself, quarreling like an old married couple. She snorted at that thought and stopped to listen rather than break up their tete-a-tete.

"Remus- can't I just this once?"

She could hear him sigh.

"No Nymph. Lock the door behind you and we'll see each other in the morning."

This must be a well-worm argument for Remus to have it so well memorized.

"Morning-ha, it's more like evening before you come out of here, you're an icredibly trying prat you know that._ I _wasn't planning on coming in here before morning, you act like I'm a stupid little girl."

_Well,_ Aimee thought, _she's got some spirit._

"Nymph, we've gone over this before, I'm not safe."

"She could even hear the hmpff 'Nymph' let out, and imagined her defience in her stance and in her eyes.

Well she'd heard all of self-deprecating sentiments from Remus she could stand for one night. So she knocked.

"Yes." She could sense Tonk's anger, that she kept hidden behind her voice.

"It's Aimee, can I come in?"

"Sure, let's make it a party. We're all just peachy in here." Tonks retorted.

Aimee chuckled at her use of American slang and opened the door.

Tonight the young metamorphagus had forgone her usualy pink getup for long, coffee brown ringlets that framed her heart shaped face, light lime green eyes blazed furiously. Remus was hunched at his desk, head in his hands, hair obscuring his face.

"Here," she placed the goblet down on the desk, "Remus."

"Huh?" He looked up and she could tell he was barely keeping the wolf inside in check, it shone in his eyes. She watched as he sniffed the air cautiously.

"Aims- surely."

"Drink up." He still looked suspicious.

"What is it with you people and poisoning?" She snapped.

"No- how, I didn't know anyone but Severus-"

"Pomfrey had the recipe in one of her books, though this will taste slightly better. I put milkweed in it. Solely for taste, I hear even on the best of days this is a nasty potion to stomach."

"Thank you, I really-"

"No. Stop that- and," she turned sharply to Tonks who stood stifly, in a guarded stance, "Let this lovely young lady take care of you, at least for tonight. God knows one of us should get some one of these days."

And with that she left.

* * *

Down in the kitchen Aimee sat with her notes on DeathEaters comparing them with Bill and Charlie (Moody and Kinsley had already left). 

"Where's Fleur?"

"Off taking care of some things at home, she should be back tomorrow." Bill looked up and grimaced which made his face quite a sight.

Since the attack of Fenrir Greyback Bill had developed a preference for rare meat and dark chocolate, a uncanny agility, more powerful senses especially smell and sound, and insomnia around the full moon, plus a testy disposition before and after. The scars still hadn't healed, Bill have given up hoping, and were like jagged pinstripes of pale pink down his face.

Charlie was up due to the time change which he was still trying to get used to. Aimee still had trouble sleeping in the house.

"So what do we have so far?" Charlie appeared, carring a tray with a pot of hot tea, mugs and a few chocolate biscuits.

"You know you're becoming more like you mother every day." Aimee remarked taking a cup and dipping a biscuit in the steaming tea.

"I resent that comment." Charlie retorted trying to snatch the sugar away from her.

Bill chuckled deeply, "Well she does have a point."

"See Bill here knows what I'm talking about."

Charlie stuck his tongue out childishly at the both of them.

* * *

review, its good karma, and me likey when people review. 

please click the blue button below, it will bring forth much joy from the author and she will thus be more likely to update more often...

_Draco_: Not true...

_Hermione_: Oh shut up, you moron!

please review...e gads I am such a review whore.

_Draco_: Yes you are, finally the muggle speaks the- (the rest of the comment has been cut due to the large log that just hit Mr. Malfoy in the head, rendering him unconcious)

_Hermione_: Ron, did you just knock him out?


	10. Farming and Agriculture

**Vi:** Savage Garden is a genius band! yay for underapreciated bands! I have all their albums on my ipod, Crash and Burn and Two Beds... are my favorites. It's so a Remus/Tonks well really Remus/anybody song...hehheh... Girl you read my mind on the Aimee-Charlie thing, just you wait...just you wait... And about helping them well it gave me a chance to give more of a background of her...shall we say...special talents. Hint: take her making the potion into her personal background theory...it will help on figureher out :) I am attempting to write the third chapter of Flirt...its coming along...And yay Death Day Par-tay! w00t w00t. cheers _MB_.

* * *

**A/N:** I have no idea my I named this Farming and Agriculture it just came to me. Maybe I'm a genius, maybe I'm not. Who really knows...

**Disclaimer:** bladyblahblah...don't own...bladyblahblah...same thing as last chapter...bladyblahblah...why do I keep writing this...

_Draco_: Cause your wierd!

_Neville_: Well so are you.

_ME_: Well hello Neville, where did you come from?

_Neville_: uh...your head...

_Draco_: uh...excuse me hear...I thought I was the center of attention.

Draco has been knocked unconcious again, this time by Seamus who knocked him over getting here.

_Seamus_: Oi, you guys havin' party with out me?

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

_

* * *

_

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Ten: Farming and Agriculture

-

"We should have become farmers."

**- Me and My Friends **

result of really bad GM _(my silly nerdy friends)_

_-_

"How does light enter a person? Through the open door of love."

**- Paul Coelho**

* * *

"Well?" 

"Yes?" Harry was unsuccessfully trying to heal a cut on his elbow.

"Explain..." Aimee observed until finally she took out her own wand and healed it.

"Just a little problem with a nasty boggart on the third floor. Remus, Ron, Hermione and I were going through Sirius' old things."

"I see you found the feisty one of the bunch."

Harry frowned, "Yeah."

"I hear you called a meeting today."

"Yes I did."

"Do you want me there?"

Harry looked hopefull, "Please, I think I may need some back up."

* * *

So once again the remaining Order of the Pheonix sat around the kitchen table debating their favorite argument lately – course of action. 

"We know for a fact-" Pierce's voice carried over the small talk, "that the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters will be celebrating Samhain then. If the attack is to succeed it must be carried out under the cover of darkness while they are at their revels unaware."

Some members nodded in agreement, some looked more skeptical.

"He's right, they wont be expecting it but we're are going to be on their turf so everyone has got to watch out and don't hold back." Harry sighed he really didn't like this, putting so many people in danger but it was his only chance to get close enough to Voldemort.

"They wont hesitate to kill," Aimee's voice rang over the din and each member swivelled their eyes on her.

"Remember that they wont hesitate to kill any of you. You must also be of the same mind. Don't hesitate to strike, for if you don't it might be to late."

* * *

"Hey anyone for a game of Exploding Snap?" Harry asked a the meeting started to break up. 

"I'm in..." Seamus said from the end of the table.

"And me..." Ginny called as she got up to sit closer.

"Aimee, Charlie?" Harry asked enthusiastically.

Aimee turned to Charlie who hunched his shoulders in ambiguity.

"Sure why not?"

* * *

"So and then Maris was like – Oh my god – and we all laughed..." Aimee smiled a little as she listened to Gavan rattle on. 

Stretched out of the couch, she lay there phone in hand, drink in the other. She thought about the past a lot lately, it being so close to Samhain and only a glass of Ogden's with soda and a twist could clear her head.

Gavan had stopped talking.

"Yes, hon?"

His small voice carried over the line, "Is Harry there?"

"Yes, he is."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, "Can I speak to him?"

"I don't know, can you?"

Gavan gave a frustrated grunt.

"May I?"

"Yes you may. Oi Harry!."

The young man was curled up across the room with his book. He looked up, and pushed his glasses back up on his nose from where they had slipped while he was reading.

"Yes."

"Gavan wants to talk to you."

Harry grinned.

"Catch!" Aimee launched the phone which he caught expertly, years of quidditch and fighting Voldemort honed reflexes.

"Gavan..." She heard Harry ask holding the phone close to his ear.

Aimee leaned back, downed the rest of her frink and sighed. Closing her eyes she settled into the couch and distantly listened as Gavan and Harry prattled on about quidditch and the like.

* * *

"Aimee..." Aimee was jostled out of a very pleasent dream by Harry. 

"Yes," she struggled to push herself into an upright position on the couch.

"Gavan says Donovan wants to speak with you."

"Oh...okay. Hand it over. By the way, how long was I out?"

"Only a few minutes."

He volleyed the phone back at her.

"Gavan...?"

"No, Mum it's Van." Her older, much quieter, somber son answered.

"Oh, hello dear."

There was a slight pause as if he was trying to figure out what to say.

"When are you coming home?"

* * *

"Harry," Aimee sidled up to Harry, a wooden box in hand. 

Carefully she opened in a pulled something square out, Harry looked on.

"I've had this for years, forgot I even had it. It's the only picture I have of them together."

Aimee handed over a picture fram which Harry took gingerly. It was muggle but the two occupants in the picture were most obviously wizards. They wore dark looking robes, opened, revealing muggle clothes as the sun shinned off them. The taller of the two was lanky though filled out, with incredibly messy, black hair that spirited in ever direction. His hazel eyes were filled with laughter and there contented smile on his tanned face. The other, shorter of the two was more stocky and had a smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, which looked as if it had been broken a few times. His eyes were a most brillant bright blue (just like Gavan's) and his hair auburn with flecks of a darker cherry color in it, that shinned in the sun.

When Harry spoke is was soft, "I didn't know you knew my dad."

Aimee chuckled, "Everyone at Hogwarts knew James Potter."

She gave him a conspiratal wink, "No this was right when Aiden and James-your father were deciding who to play for, well that was before Voldemort reared his ugly head out in the open and your parents went in hiding."

Harry looked at her then.

"Aiden and James," she continued, "were both going to sign with Puddlemere. I think James was planning to play for the Tornadoes but they were offered a deal for them both at Puddlemere, both being Chasers."

He hadn't known his father played Professional.

"How long did they play?"

"They didn't." She said shortly. "By the time the season came round, James and Lily-your parents were in hiding and Aiden and I were working for Dumbledore, Aiden full time for the Order, and me trying to locate would be Death Eaters."

"Oh," Harry said before handing the picture back to her.

"No you can have it," she offered looking down at it.

_You were right Aiden_, she starred at their smiling faces, _we should have become farmers_.

* * *

see that pretty blue button that says review click it and it will bring forth much joy...

cheers The Silly Muggle

_Draco_: Finally she con- oh shit!

_Me_: Harry what have you done now?


	11. Nos Calan Gaeaf

**Vi: **hehhehheh...poor-ickle Harrykins. Well this is the chapter where I let all of it-well most all of it, all out. Writing it was really cathartic, well this and the next chapter. Cheers hon and happy reading.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter was really, really cathartic. Hope you enjoy. And about all your theories on Aimee well here they will be put to the test. By the way Nos Calan Gaeaf in Welsh translates to Samhain or Day of the Dead. Aren't I spiffy. Cheers all. And remember reviewing is good for the soul. 

_Harry_: Is it really?

_Me_: Yes, very.

_Harry_: I just thought it made you go crazy...

_Ron_: and talk to people in your head...

(_Me_) Glares at Harry and Ron: You two are officially grounded!

**Disclaimer:** bladyblahblah...don't own...bladyblahblah...same thing as last chapter...bladyblahblah...why is this still here?

_Hermione_: Cause it fills up the page nicely.

_Severus_: Well I see the insufferable know-it-all has joined us now.

_Me_: Oh, Sevy, sweetheart – Shut the hell up!

_Harry and Ron_: Three cheers for telling off the ugly git.

_Me_: Hey, I thought I grounded you? (evil deathray stare)

_Harry_: meep.

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

* * *

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Nos Calan Gaeaf

-

"Calm as an angel in a dragons den."

**The Revolt of Islam**

**-**

Hoppe hoppe Reiter   
und kein Engel steigt herab  
mein Herz schlägt nicht mehr weiter   
nur der Regen weint am Grab  
hoppe hoppe Reiter   
eine Melodie im Wind  
mein Herz schlägt nicht mehr weiter   
und aus der Erde singt das Kind

- _Spieluhr_ (Music Box), **Rammstein**

-

English Translation:

Up and down, rider   
and no angel climbs down  
my heart does not beat anymore   
only the rain cries on the grave  
up and down, rider   
a melody in the wind  
my heart does not beat anymore   
and the child sings from the ground

* * *

Aimee passed Treiss a piece of gum. 

"Thanks...hmmm blueberry..." The young blonde ex-Auror hummed in the dark.

"Wotcher, Aimee?" Aimee turned at the sound of the voice.

"Tonks?" Aimee thought she saw a trace of majenta in the shadows.

"I wanted to thank you for the other night."

"How did it go?"

"Much better."

Aimee smiled in the dark, "Good, that's what I wanted to hear."

* * *

The night of Samhain was a dark night. The spìrits of the dead just a flicker from the living. Members from the Order of the Pheonix crept through the night, wary of traps and sentrys. 

As they approached the sit of the Dark Lord's revels, splotches of light cast an ethereal glow on the surrounding country-side.

As Harry crept closer, inching his way towards the stone arena, he shivered. A stone had wedged its way into his tomach giving way to a feeling of dread. This night would not be a pretty one.

* * *

He was running, running very fast almost tripping over his own feet, not caring what he stepped on or over. He just had to keep going – he had to find the door. 

As he rounded a corner, he stopped momentarily to catch his breath.

"Potter!"

At that he spun around to face his hunter. His robes were up and the mask covered his facial features but Harry had a sinking suspicion that it was Lucius Malfoy.

Harry went to raise his wand but Malfoy was faster, "Crucio."

The spell never hit Harry, a robbed figure had sprinted in front of him and blocked the spells path.

Harry didn't waste any time and ran off as soon as he heard the figure bark out a hex. He had to find a way into the inner santum.

* * *

Harry had wedged himself in a tunnel, some kind made for drainage, in the stone wall. From there he could see inside. Finally he had made it. Slowly he slithered on his stomach towards the opening, wand in hand. He could faintly hear and see, Voldemort and the Death Eaters that remained behind were torturing someone. Harry held his breath. 

The cloaked figure was tossed to the ground, then a round of Crucio's were sent flying in its general direction.

Voldemort stood at the head of the gathering, hood and mask off, a grim looking smike splayed on his lips, beady blood red eyes flashing. He stalked towards the prone figure and pulled back the hood. Harry froze – it was Aimee. He had the sudden urge to go strangle each and ever Death Eater in there.

She was very pale, blood was trickling out of the corner of her mouth, sparkling crimson against her skin. He watched as she heaved heavy breaths that looked painful. He watched as she tried to move.

_How'd see get caught?_

One of Voldemort's skeletal hands reached out to grab her chin, so that she had to look at him square in the face. Her dark eyes blazed in fury and provocation.

Harry took mental notes of the surroundings he had to get her out. His other plands wasted away.

A hiss came as Voldemort began to talk, the sound so resembling the snake he kept as his side, "Aimee Evelin Carlisle, or should I call you Snape."

He let go of her chin and her head lolled.

Harry's mind immediately stopped functioning and focused on the last word Voldemort said – Snape.

_Must of heard him wrong._

Voldemort turned back to his little congregation of Death Eater's.

"Severus-"

A cloaked figure in the circle bent his head, Harry seethed at remembrances, his hand itching towards his wand.

Voldemort opened his mouth again, the hissing sound grating against the silence. Harry looked towards Aimee to see ger staring straight at him, her dark eyes pleading and though her face was skewed with pain she mouthed something along the lines of "Go" or "Run".

But before Harry fled back out the hole he could hear the hissing voice, "Do you have anything to say in defense of your sister Severus?"

* * *

The realization hit him. Nice, caring Aimee Carlisle was inaccuality Aimee Snape, horrid Severus Snape's sister. He smoldered. 

Harry fumed all the way back to Grimmauld Place, slamming the door loudly when he arrived.

His voice outmatched Mrs. Black as he cursed everything in existense.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me-I hate her-I...ahrgg..."

Harry paced around the kitchen itching to take out his wand and blow up everything in sight.

"Harry?" A bewildered looking Remus appeared in the doorway, "What's happened?"

"WHAT Happened! She...I hate her...that...that...she's...ah..."

Remus looked very confused and approached Harry wearily, putting his hand on his forewarm to get him to stop wearing tracks in the floorboards.

"Harry, what happened?"

Harry finally stopped and looked at Remus – his mind still filled with anger, resentment, and frustration. Part of his mind still wouldn't believe it.

"She didn't tell me that's what! She didn't tell me she was related to that-that git!"

Remus still looked confused, "Who-" then realized it and Harry was caught off guard by what looked like fear on his face, "Aimee."

"YES!...Why didn't she tell me!" He yelled at no one in particular.

"What-that she was a Snape by birth?"

Harry scowled at him.

"Probably because she didn't want something like this to happen."

Harry slumped down in a chair, a fierce headache staring in his brain.

He was royally pissed – _How could she pull something like that?_

"Harry," Remus said softly, "You should know she denounced her family long ago. She never cared to assoicate with them even at school. She often told me she would gladly have stayed at Hogwarts during the summer if only it would stay open."

Harry frowned at that.

"Harry by the way where is Aimee?"

The knowledge caught him like a bludger to the chest and knocked all the wind out of him.

He peered up at Remus in shame and fear, "They got her."

* * *

please, please review, it tells me what people like and don't like. And it fills my need for them if you do. sigh...I am a review whore...and there is no Draco to confirm that notion...Harry went and used him for Hippogryff fodder...sigh...

review its good for the soul.


	12. The Serpent's Son

**A/N:** Boy I am crackingout these chapters fast!go me on updating. Well this chapter and After Hours chapter number nine are my favorite so far. I absolutely loved writing them. I also like the Aimee and Severus dynamic I got to use in this chapter. Oh and look out for my Batman Begins reference...hehheh...genius aren't I?...hehheh. well enjoy.

**Vi: **Harry is just so much fun to write when he's hormonal. Plot twists...yay! I agree Dragon-Man to the rescue.

_Draco_: what about me?

_Me_: What about you?

_Draco_: When do I grace the scene with my lovely presence?

_Me_: Me not telling...

_Draco_: Stupid Muggle...

_Harry_: What have I said about calling her 'stupid muggle'

_Draco _:Actually it was silly muggle- oh crap... (death...again)

_Harry_: Oh hi Vi!

_Me_: Harry...

_Harry_: meep

**---**

**Disclaimer:** bladyblahblah...don't own...bladyblahblah...same thing as last chapter...bladyblahblah...

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

* * *

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Twelve: The Serpent's Son

-

Black is the kiss, the touch of the serpent son

It ain't the mark or the scar that makes you one

- _Thank You For the Venom_, **My Chemical Romance**

**-**

"Each of us can find a maggot in our past

which will happily devour our futures."

**C.S Forester**, _The Fire Ships (Hornblower)_

* * *

Severus Snape quickly made his way through the dungeons, the click of his Dragonhide Boots an omnious sound against the stone. His dark cloak billowed widely aroud him- all in all with his telltale sneer he cut a very imposing figure. When he came to cell number eleven, he drew out a large brass key and put it in the lock. It made a horribe clicking sound, metal rasping against metal. Slowly he opened the large, thick door and went inside.

Aimee heard the click in the the lock and straightened herself. She hoped it wasn't going to be another round of Crucio with 'the boys'. She was then duly surprised to see Severus come through the door and close it behind him. He looked tired and much older, well she reasoned he should, she hadn't seen him in some twenty years.

"Well, Severus, this is unexpected. You come to tell me off?"

He grunted, "I had no idea you were even alive."

She ignored his stare.

"Well, what are you here for then, dear brother of mine?"

He flinched at her last words, and she smirked knowing she still had that affect on him.

"I came to see you or to collect your dead body."

"Oh well that was nice." She stated. "I'd offer you a seat and some tea and crumpets but I'm in a bit of a bind."

He ignored her and spoke gravely.

"He wants to kill you."

"Oh, no. Really?" she said mockingly, a superficial surprised look on her face, "I thought he just wanted to pat me on the head and send me to bed without my ice cream."

"Pish posh, Sev," she continued, "what do you take me for, a naive little girl, a silly muggle?"

He looked casually affronted.

"I'm in Voldemort's dungeons, I've helped Harry-fucking-Potter storm the castle, I've defied him in all his repugnant glory, of course he wants my dead."

Severus turned away at that and reached into his robes. "Here," he handed her a vial, "It will help."

Taking a short look at the green vial, un-corked it, and gulped down the whole thing.

Gagging at the horrible taste, she glarred at him, "You really are the biggest git in existense, you know that right."

There was a slight twitch on his lips and he turned to leave. As he did Aimee let out a sigh at the dramatics of his exit, "Don't stay too long in the Bat Cave, you might actually turn into one."

* * *

Harry lifted the grate.

_Ugg, not another drainage system. _

Charlie Weasley appeared at his side with a very long rope wraped around his shoulder and some metal hooks.

"What are those?"

Charlie gave him a slight grin, "What you never been splunking?"

"Splunking-huh?"

Charlie looked like he was about to explain but Pierce showed up.

"This better be the right place, Pierce."

Pierce glared at them, "You doubt me," then he mimicked dramatically getting shot in the heart with an arrow, "You hath wound me with your words, Sirs."

Harry just shook his head, "Ready?"

* * *

Aimee shifted and groaned in pain as another agonizing lance twisted through her. The pain took control of her brain and made concentration fuzzy. Plus the potion Severus gave her had dulled the thoughts along with most of the intial pain. So she hadn't had time for an escape plan. She surely wasn't going to stay here and find out what Moldy-Voldy wanted to do to her.

_Too bad_, she mused, _that there's no Exit signs. _

There was a rattling of the grate above her head which sounded like a rat and she silently cursed it making her head throbb so.

But then it moved some more making a horrible clattering sound and she looked up to shoo the animal way.

But when she did, it was not a rat by the freckled, smiling face of Charlie Weasley.

"Well it took you bloody long enough."

* * *

In room number One Hundred and Eleven of St. Mungo's Watch Ward, Mrs. Weasley sat. She sat and waited, her hands folded in her lap, hair in disaray, clothes amess. The remembrance of tears still fading from her chapped cheeks. But she sat still, in one of the very, uncomfortable wooden chairs with one mission: to stay awake.

A few paces from her asleep, resting on the edge and against the bed, legs tucked underneath him, was the ginger head of Fred Weasley. He slept horribly, hand resting over the hand of the occupant of cot number One Hundred and Eleven.

The occupant of said cot was pale as death, except for the freckles that covered every inch of his skin. His roguish vemillion hair had had been combed straight by some kind soul and his eyes were closed. His body remained prostrate and stationary oblivious to the world, except for the rise and fall of his chest. There was a new white curse scar above his right eye and another that split the left side of his lip vertically. But he didn-t move, stuck in his coma as the world moved on.

On the edge of the Patient's bed hung a sheet of parchment, his name in gold calligraphy – 'George Weasley'.

* * *

Severus Snape down in his quarters watched as another one of his potions bubble merrily, his thoughts very preoccupied.

_Bat Cave, oh how original._ He found himself smirking at that.

Before he could drown some more memories, his fireplace erupted in green flames and the head of Bellatrix Lestranger appeared.

"She's gone Severus! These fools have lost her." She spat as Severus looked up casually.

"and...The Dark Lord demands your presense." She sneered, a mad glint in her eye.

Severus just sneered back. "Tell him, I'll be there presently, I have a potion to finish."

He looked to his potion and his lips twitched at the sight of an old antique pocket watch.

* * *

review and you will earn my eternal friendship...

----

_Draco_: Even my Psycho-Bitch of an Aunt Bella shows up!

_Me_: huh, is that you Draco, I thought Harry killed you earlier?

_Draco_: He did. This is the spectral me.

_Me_: oh.

_Draco_: So where am I, huh?

_Me_: Probably inthe bath.

_Draco_: Huh?-bath...

_Me_: I don't know...how should I know in the first place?

_Draco_: How don't you knowthis is your stupid fan-fic.

_Me_: I know...I know...You're stripping for Lovegood...thats it! (cheers Vi)

_Draco_: even in death the silly muggle scares me..

_Harry_: Draco...

_Draco_: I know I know...once I come back from the dead you will promptly send me back.

cheers all


	13. Lost

**Vi: **I did write alot in the last chapter. Well it was muy divertido. Hope you enjoy this one as well. Charlie makes a damn good rescuer. Hehheh...splunking...I want a freakin bat mobile. You said I was going to kill George, I have a thing for him more than Fred I don't know why if I did I know why I'm not fully sane, but because I care for him so much I am only going to hurt him severely...Its within my character right...hahhah. I like Draco's line about making out with a mirror. Hehheh...harry...talking mirror...oh so much fodder...well cheers then...and happy reading

**A/N:** Watch for Shrek allusions...hehheh...onions have layers:) Well this has been a blast. A little more Aimee/Charlie in this chapter. Part-tay! I have finally got the entire fic planned out. Okay now here's where you guys come in.

1. Which house should Donovan be in? Slytherin, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw? the voting begins now.

2. Any ideas on what my sequels title should be, send me a line.

**Disclaimer:** bladyblahblah...don't own...bladyblahblah...same thing as last chapter...bladyblahblah...

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

* * *

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Thirteen: Lost

-

All that is gold does not glitter;

not all those that wander are lost.

**- JRR Tolkein**

**-**

"Take me for what I am

Who I was meant to be..."

**- RENT** (the musical)

* * *

"We're lost aren't we?" Harry remarked as he stepped over another bramble or bush, he couldn't tell, and tried to see through the mist. 

"I do believe your assumption is correct, Mr. Potter." Pierce spoke from some where on his life. He heard Aimee humpf behind him, sported by Charlie.

"I thought you said you knew the way?" Charlie snapped.

"I said I knew how to get there not how to get back. Who'd reckon it turn out like this?" Pierce cleared his throat loudly.

"Well this is just great." Charlie retorted.

_That's it_, Harry thought, _Mistake #44: Breaking into a strange tower surrounded by mist._

"So it's technically not my fault we're lost." Pierce interjected.

"Yes it is! You moron, you said I quote – I know the way!" Charlie's voice took on a heated tone.

"Would you two stop bickering like an old married couple, it's not going to get us anywhere." Aimee spoke.

Harry could hear her heave another breath sharply as it still was very painful for her to move.

"So," Harry said coversationally, "Any guesses on how lost are we?"

* * *

"Damn, Merlin's beard." Harry cursed, for the fifth time he had tried to Apparate and had failed. Something about the mist or the last was making it impossible to Apparate – as they all had got the same result – failure . 

Harry looked at Aimee who was leaning against a tree wand in hand.

"Hey I thought they took your wand?"

Aimee looked up tiredly, " They did except," she said mad glint in her eye, "this wand is special."

Harry chuckled, he had almost forgotten he was mad at her, "Really?"

"Really, really. I can be a bit forgetfull sometimes and Aiden found this spell for me that ties the wand to the user by blood. So if I leave it or lose it I can Accio it and it will come to me."

"Hmm."

"Yeah, it's a blood spell as I said, maybe I'll teach it to you someday, when your older."

Harry sent her a sideline glance. "When do you suppose they'll be back?"

"Who knows I just hope they haven't managed to strangle each other."

* * *

"You are mad at me, aren't you?" 

"Erm...yes and no."

"You're mad at me because of Severus aren't you?"

He hated her keen senses.

"Yes." He rounded on her, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't occur to me at first to say – hey Harry I'm a Snape, you know that wizard, the evil git you hate so much, yeah, he's my brother. I do not care to be associated with him. And when I got to know you better it was irrevelent. I am Aimee Carlisle – no additions or subtrations."

"Its just I-" Now anything he said made him feel guilty.

She looked up at him, pain and weariness evident on her face, "Truce."

"Yeah," he said softly, "Truce."

* * *

"We think we found a way out." Pierce appeared ferom a shadow in the mist, Charliie came in view right behind him. 

"After walking in circles for hours we think we found the exit or a way to. Because this land is magically concealed we have to un-cloak ourselves and climb over that there moutain-hill-thingie..." he continued.

"That's it." Harry asked unbelieving, there had to be more of a catch.

"Yeah, that's it."

"We think."

Charlie leaned down to nudge Aimee who had nodded off, propped against a tree, "Aimee, Aimee."

She mummured non-comitally in her sleep.

Charlie looked up at Pierce and Harry, "We have got to get out of here."

"No shit."

* * *

"Oh good you're back!" Bill exclaimed opening the door. "Mum would have had a fit if you hadn't showed soon." 

Harry and Pierce motioned him to be quiet as they entered, Charlie followed a sleeping Aimee in his arms.

"She's right next to you right Harry?" Charlie whispered.

"Yeah."

"Okay, then I'll just take her up."

As Charlie carried Aimee up the her room, she slowly came out of her drugged sleep.

"Charlie?" She muttered, and he felt her try to move.

"Yes. It's Charlie."

"Thanks Dragon-Man."

He smiled, "It was my please, Mi-Lady."

"Did you just carry me up all those stairs?" She asked sleepily as he tried to open the door with one hand and his foot.

"Yes," he murmured into her hair, "Now go to sleep."

"As yes sleep...sleep would be nice." She mummbled as she drifted off again.

* * *

"Aimee?" Harry voiced as he entered her room, she had just woke up for the first time since they had rescued her. 

"Yes." She said, her voice gravelly from disuse.

"I came to apoligise."

She raised herself further up on her pillows, "For what?"

"For getting mad."

A slight smile formed on her face, "It's okay."

"Really?" He looked surprised.

"Really, really. Of course, it's okay. All I ask of you is to take me for who I am. That's all Harry."

For the first time in three days he smiled.

* * *

I have gotten tired for asking... 

_Draco_: Thank God!

Harry glares.

_Draco_: What Potter I am simply remarking that I have a whole, corporal body now. What did you think I was talking about?

Harry: Just review!(cheeky smile, cheekysmile)


	14. Orphans of the Storm

**Vi**: I am kind of leaning towards Ravenclaw though Slytherin is a possibility for Donovan, the evil little devil that he is. Yay Sirius...well I hope you enjoy this chapter.

**miz-attitude**: YAY! new reader. thankies so much. I glad you like.

* * *

**A/N:** I have this thing with beating up characters I really, really like. moohahahaha...well as usual enjoy and review tis good for the soul. and the chapter title and quote is from Brideshead Revisited which is a book by Evelyn Waugh and also it was made into a miniseries, I was watching it last night. Very good book and movie. 

**Disclaimer:** bladyblahblah...don't own...bladyblahblah...same thing as last chapter...bladyblahblah...

_Severus_: If it's the same thing as last chapter, then why do you keep putting it here?

_Me_: Meh...cause it fills up the page nicely.

_Severus_: Ten points from the silly muggle for an unsatisfactory answer!

_Me_: You can't take points from me I don't have house.

_Severus_ just raises an eyebrow.

_Harry_: Did he just call you 'silly muggle'

_Me_: Yes, I do believe he did.

_Severus_: ahhh...death...I hate you

_Me_: I know.

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

* * *

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Fourteen: Orphans of the Storm

"We are but orphans of the storm..." - _Brideshead Revisited_, **Evelyn Waugh**

* * *

"Tell me why we vollunteered for this again?" Charlie hugged his great coat closer to him ineffort to stay warm. 

"Becausewe like spending our nights of freedom in the pouring, freezing rain waiting perchance for a rogue DeathEater to come along." Aimee remarked.

His scowl changed into a slight smile.

"I know isn't this romantic." Aimee batted her eyelashes at him and he chuckled.

"Verily."

Aimee turned her head slightly to shout behind her, "Mr. Finnigan are you still alive?"

"Yes," he grummbled, "Atleast I think so."

"Ah but do you know so?"

"Uh..." he paused, "That could be a problem, I can't feel my feet."

"Oh, goody." Aimee muttered to herself.

* * *

"I wonder..." Charlie muttered as he had the last few hours, just loud enough she could hear it. 

"Would you just shut up." Aimee snapped her nerves run a little thin.

He twinkled back at her, "Make me."

Aimee pursed her lips at the thoughts that graced her mind, _There's lots of things I'd could think of to shut up that red-headed freckled face of yours._

She settled for glaring.

"Ooh, is that the 'fuck off and die' glare or the 'ray of death' glare." He spoke mockingly.

Aimee ground her teeth, "No this is the 'if you don't shut up you may find yourself in a very comprimising situation'."

It didn't help her mood that he just snickered.

* * *

The pop of someone Apparating filled the stagnant air and all three wizards spun towards it, but it was only Ginny. 

"I'm here to relieve Aimee."

Aimee flashed a grin at Charlie who frowned. "Have fun."

There was a general non-commital grunt from both Seamus and Charlie.

* * *

Carefully Aimee made her way down the street. Something was wrong, she knew it instantly because Grimmauld Place was in full view. 

She raced up the walk and flung open the door. Mrs. Black was mysteriously quiet as well. Aimee rushed into the kitchen.

"No!" She yelled as she reached the body.

"Oh, gods No! Merlin-no, no no!"

Remus Lupin was spralled out on the kitchen floor. Near one his hand was the remnants of a shattered tea cup, his wand beside his other was broken.

Almost afraid to touch, she tentativly reached for his neck. At the feel of his pulse and shallow breathing, he was still alive, but just barely.

"Oh gods Remus," She swiped the bits of china away and turned him over.

She slapped the side of his face, in hopes of maybe waking him up, "Oh come on Remus – hon – don't do this to me. Come on wake up." She could feel the sting of fresh tears in her eyes.

"Come on hon, wake up...wake up." She was shaking him now.

She took one of his still warm hands in hers' rubbing it and then noticed the scars. All over his hands and forearms were scars. Silver scares. She growled, who ever attacked him used silver. Who ever attacked him knew him well enough, who ever attacked him he thought was a friend, as evidence by the tea. _Oh gods I've got to-_

Aimee was immediately on her feet and grabbed a fist full of floo powder. "Arthur Weasley's Office, The Ministry of Magic."

She could see Arthur and Kingsley faintly through the green flames talking.

"Arthur, Kingsley! Notify St. Mungo's I'm coming through."

They both frowned curiously.

"Remus was attacked," she said frantically.

"What-" Arthur looked fearful and Kingsley frowned some more.

"And whatever you do don't tell Tonks, not just yet."

* * *

The nurses at St. Mungo's had taken Remus away saying something about Silver Poisoning and Crucio curses. But Aimee was too stunned to really understand what they were saying. Her mind was reeling. Who could have found Grimmauld Place? Remus was the secret keeper. And for Remus for to invite them in and offere tea. _Oh gods, not another mole. Gods it could be anyone. _Well she had to disclude all the Weasleys and Kingsley, she couldn't see them going it or Hermione, she still fancied Remus too much. _Oh Merlin._ Her next thought was Tonks. Some how she needed to waylay her for atleast a little while. But her problem was that she didn't know where the pink-haired metamorphagus was. 

"Aimee-" Aimee turned at her name.

Fleur was standing across the entrance way.

"Fleur, you seen Tonks?"

"Yesz, I think zee was talking with Molly."

"Thanks dear." She ran off towards Room One Hundred and Eleven, leaving a confused and flustered Fleur Weasley in her wake.

* * *

"Molly," Aimee entered Room One Hundred and Eleven slowly and quietly. "Is Tonks- oh there you are!"

Tonks was sitting in one of the horrible uncomfortable chairs next to Molly Weasley.

Tonks eyes brightened when she saw her, "Wotcher, I've been trying to get Molly here to eat or drink something."

"Molly-" Aimee put her hand over the older witch's. "George is not going anywhere," she shifted her gaze to the prone wizard, "What do you think he'd say if he knew you were doing this-"

Aimee though she saw the red-headed woman smile and a tear drifted down her face.

"Now what would Arthur say- extending yourself like this? Hmmm? You need some rest, I'll watch over him for you. You come back after a rest and some food."

Molly Weasley looked at her and said the first word she'd said for a week, "Promise."

"Promise." Aimee patted her hand.

"Okay," Molly Weasley got up, and slowly (first she approached George and ruffled his hair) walked out.

Tonk sat in awe, "How did you do that? Fred tried when he had to go back to the shop, they had another yelling match. Fleur tried, failure there. I was trying and failing."

Aimee took the seat Molly had vacated. "It's a mother thing. She knows if it were my son, our roles reversed, she would do the same thing that I did and vice versa."

"So, why were you looking for me?"

Aimee heaved an internal sight, just after she averted one crisis all she needed was for Tonks to go running off after Remus. At least she wasn't the one to find him.

"Needed to talk with someone who doesn't have red hair."

In the silence of the room Tonks laughed.

* * *

"Miss Carlisle?" 

Aimee turned from where she and Tonks were playing a game of Rummy.

"Yes."

The nurse stood stifly, "I need to talk with you."

Aimee put her cards down and looked to Tonks, "Don't you dare look at my cards."

Tonks gave her an innocent look, "Never."

Aimee followed the nurse into the hall.

"Yes?" She said when she thought they were out of ear shot.

"About Mr. Lupin, he suffered severe silver poisoning, they wanted to transfer him," Aimee fought the urge to snarl at that, "but since he's sleeping fine and relatively stable we've been able to keep him here, Room 413."

_Oh thank god._

"Thanks," Aimee turned to go back into the room.

She turned right into a very angry Tonks.

"WHAT!"

_Oi, now that's just bolluxed._

_

* * *

_

wow...that was fun...now tell me how you like it.

cheers _MB_


	15. Door Number Three

**A/N: **This a really short chapter, just for the excuse of writing some Harry/Ginny fluffyness. enjoy...

**Disclaimer:** I hereby disclaim ownership of any of Jo's wonderful characters...

_Luna_: she is lovely isn't she?

_Ginny_: Yep, cause she created us.

_Draco_: Did she create us or were we already there in the common-ah death...

_Ginny_: Why thank you Harry.

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

* * *

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter 15: Door Number Three 

_No, I'll hold out just as long as I am able _

_Until I can unlock that lucky door _

_Well, she's no big deal to most folks _

_But she's everything to me _

_Cause my whole world lies waiting behind door number three_

- Door Number Three, **Jimmy Bufffet**

**

* * *

**  
A very fatigued Harry Jame Potter slowly made his way to his room at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. As he turned to go down the hall, he ran straight into Ginny Weasley.

"Hey Harry," Her eyes brightened.

"Hey, what happened down in the kitchen, there's broken china in the sink."

She shrugged, "Not sure, came home from patrol and it was like that. You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired and sore is all."

She smiled and he tried to as well but it came out more as a grimace.

"I can cure that. How's bout I give you a massage."

Harry stretched languidly, "Sounds heavenly. Which room?"

"Mine, it's closer."

"Okay."

"Thanks Gin." He sighed as she loosened up the muscles in his back.

"You know, I've never given up on us. I knew what you said back in 5th year and I understand. I just want you to know how I feel and that I still care."

Harry was rapidly fading into sleep but she heard his soft reply, "So do I. Gin. So do I."

* * *

"How is Remus?" Harry asked as Aimee came through the door. 

"Better. He's awake now and in some pain, they want him to stay another night."

"Good."

"Yes."

"And George?"

"Still nothing."

Harry cringed and felt his heart sink, George was a brother to him albeit older pratical joker-get's you in trouble brother and Fred just wasn't the same without him.

"Harry." Ron cam in and sat down next to him, "How's Remus?"

"Better."

"Good."

Harry cracked a grin, "You and Mione made up yet?"

Ron smiled sheepishly, "Yeah."

"Hey hon," Aimee came back into the room, she had changed out of her heavy robes.

"Yes?"

"Ready for that driving lesson?"

Harry looked up eagerly.

"Yeah."

* * *

As Aimee watched Harry not kill himself on the bike, she pondered the predicament they now were in. Remus didn't remember anything or so he said. They had no idea who got in and attacked him. Aimee had reasoned out all members of the Order by now. Nothing was stolen, no spells were cast, only Remus was attacked. The way it happened was more like some one after him personally rather than specifically after the Order. She was sorely puzzled, if it wasn't any of the Order, how did they get in? 

Harry took a wide swing with the bike and tried to come to a full stop, but came up on the curb, luckly he stayed on.

"You just killed a Pedestrian Mr. Potter, think on that next time you get behind the wheel."

* * *

reviewing is good for the soul and bringeth forth much karma...well and my eternal friendship... 

cheers all _MB_


	16. Trying to Reason

**A/N: **Welcome to Chapter Sixteen! W00t! My heart goes out to all those affected and effected by Katrina. Goddess Bless to all. This I think is one of my longest chapters...enjoy! cheers all and remember to review, it's good for karma.

_MB_

**Disclaimer:** I hereby disclaim ownership of any of Jo's wonderful characters...

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

* * *

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Sixteen: Trying to Reason

_And now I must confess, I could use some rest. _

_I can't run at this pace very long. _

_Yes, it's quite insane, I think it hurts my brain. _

_But it cleans me out and then I can go on. _

- Trying to Reason with Hurricane Season, **Jimmy Buffet**

* * *

Aimee made her way into St. Mungo's and quickly found 413, it was in a remote corner of the hospital. Remus was up reading.

"Hey you." She said taking a seat next to the bed.

"Hey yourself." He looked up and put his book down.

"Sorry bout earlier Remus. I was planning on telling her. I just wanted to wait."

"I discerned as much – I sent her home."

"Good, at least she listens to you."

Remus cracked a smile, "Sometimes."

"Well sometimes is more than never."

"So," she looked up, "figure out who it was."

He ran a hand nervously through his greying hair.

"I haven't told any one else yet but the last thing I remember is Nymph asking for a cup of tea."

"But Tonks was at the Ministry..." Aimee blinked, "She couldn't have been two places at once."

_Could she?_

"That's why I didn't tell anyone else, because that's what I remember."

_Oh gods, it must have been_, Aimee rationed,_ but it doesn't make any sense._

"I doesn't make any sense."

"I know, but that's what I remember, maybe-"

She cut him off, "Well you are okay, that's all that matters now."

* * *

"Tonks, you in there?"

Aimee knocked on the door to the 2nd floor bathroom. She could hear the tell-tale signs of crying.

Through the sobs and sniffles she thought she heard a 'yes'. Entering she found Tonks crumpled on the tile floor, sobbing into a hankerchief.

"Oh, come here sweatheart." She pulled the hankerchief away and discarded it in the hamper.

"Accio Klennex."

"Here ya go dear," she pulled out a few and held them out for her. "Now blow."

Kneeling down next to her, she noticed that the pink hair was gone as was the blue eyes from earlier. They were replaced by straight, long, black hair and sharp grey eyes filled now with tears. Her skin was paler and frame smaller. Aimee was getting her first glance at Nymphadora Tonks' true form.

"What's wrong?"

She rubbed circles into Tonks' back.

Through the cries she heard - "Remus, hurt, my fault, and useless."

"Hon," Aimee said lightly, "Never use more than two deprecating statements in one sentance. It's unbecoming of a woman."

That got her a slight laugh.

"Now let's get you cleaned up."

Aimee got Tonks off her knees and turned on the faucet.

"Close. Good." She dunked the young witch's head under the running water.

"Now breath." After she had pulled her out she offered her a clean towel.

"Good, now follow me."

Aimee handed Tonks a cup of hot chocolate, with three mini-marshmellows floating in its depths.

"Thanks." Tonks mummbled before taking a sip, she was back to normal – pink hair and all.

"Ah...Hot Chocolate – a woman's best friend. What was all that blubbering about?"

"Remus."

"I gthered that. I have despaired over men before, I know the symtoms."

"I...uh...after what happened...I feel responsible." Tonks cast her eyes down towards her mug.

"Why should you?"

"I said I would come home early. He must have openned the door thinking it was me."

"Oh don't despair dear. Remus isn't as breakable as he seems and it was hardly your fault." Aimee patted Tonks' knee before sitting down with her own cup of Hot Chocolate.

"It certainly wasn't becase of you."

Tonks teary-eyed, brightened at that.

* * *

Deep down in some dark cavern deep in the Welsh Countryside three dark robed figures gathered. Quickly under the cover of a speckled night's sky they trespassed towards a small, delapidated cottage.

It was a poor, neglected thing. Slightly leaning to the left, moss and ivy had invaded and the shingle roof was failing apart. The door had a few path holes in it. There was no lights on in the cottage, but it set a strange glow around it.

The three travelers approached the dwelling and the first of the three reached out a slender, gloved hand and knocked twice. After a matter of minutes they were admitted inside.

The inside had not faired any better than the outside. What furniture there was had been shattered and the stingy, grimy, green looking wall paper was peeling. There was a large, wooden china cabnet on the far wall, it was broken the glass jagged where it had been smashed. The draws were missing handles. All in all it was a very desolate place.

The elderly, looming man that had let in the three travlers gestured for them to sit on the fleabitten, motheaten remnant of a couch. They declined, but pulled back their cloak hoods revealing their faces. The taller of the three had short, expertly clipped brown hair ad a neatly kempt mustache that resembled a hary worm above his upper lip. The second of the two had long, straght black hair that almost reached his shoulder, brought back in a short ponytail, on his face he wore the tell-tale sneer of wellbeing. The third, the shortest and oldest of the three was stalkier built, not like his two waif companions. He was shaggy, with a long scraggly mane of hair and sharp, dangerous eyes. He looked very content with himself.

The pale, dark wizard was the first to speak, "And the boy?"

The eldery man nodded, "Yes gentelmen-sirs he is awaiting for his next task. Should I go get him?"

"No." the man said sharply, "Not yet."

"Now Rosier." The first man exclaimed impatiently, he was most uncomfortable in these surroundings and figeted with his cane.

His dark haired companion-Rosier- sent him a glance. He then turned to the other.

"The potion if you please."

The shaggy wizard dug into his robes and produced a purplish, brown vial. He handed it over with a smile.

"You understand Mr. Hollingsworth that we are no longer in need of your services." The wizard took out his wand. "Avada Kedavra."

The man was dead befoe he hit the ground – wide-eyed, fear imprinted on his face.

After the deed was done, he turned to his fellow travelers.

"Well sirs, I will go see to the boy. If you don't mind, could you two move the body over there."

He pointed to a spot next to what appeared to be a trap door.

"Rosier-you don't mean- I refuse to get my hands dirty." The tall, broad wizard disdained.

"Has Azakaban made you soft Rabastan?"

The wizard, Rabastan, scowled.

Rosier pointed his wand at the trap door, muttered something and it opened to reveal steps that led into a dark tunnel. Ducking due to his height, he descended into the darkness, the last thing he heard from above was the annoyed, impatient huff of his fellow wizard.

"Lumos."

It was a wet, stone tunnel, covered with various greenery and moss. The wizard had to slightly bow his head, to keep from hitting it on the ceiling. He continued down the turnnel until he came to an intersection, he went left. Water dripped against the damp stone creating a cacaphony with the clip of the wizard's boots. Finally he came to the end of the tunnel. There was a heavy, wooden door with a large brass lock.

"Alohamora." The door swung open.

The wizard stepped inside and his eyes adjusted to the deep, wet darkness. He pointed his wand to the corner. Something shied in the light and scuttled away. At first glance it seemed to be a creature of some sort. The wizard reached up to a latern and magically lit it, bathing the small room in an umber glow.

The creature was in fact a boy, naked, no more than fourteen. He curled up on himself against the brillance of the light.

The wizard stepped towards the boy and he shied again. The wizard not fazed by this reached out a gloved hand to touch the boy. The boy strained to get further away but was impeeded by the large, metal collar that was dark against his place, sickly skin. It was secured around his slender neck and their was a large chain that connected it to the wall.

"Boy." The wizard sounded.

At that the boy stopped his figeting and fell to touch the edge of the wizard's robes in submission.

The wizard's hand fell upon the boy's head and he toussled the obsidian strands.

He heard the boy sigh against the trim of his robes and then a muffled, "Master."

"Would you like to go on another vacation my boy?"

The boy glanced up hopefully and nodded fervently.

"Good."

The wizard waved his wand and the chain was gone. Reaching into his robes he produced the vial.

"Drink this."

The boy lifted his head and like a dog opened his mouth and lapped as the potion was poured down his throat.

"God boy." The wizard patted the boy's head once more, the vial disapeering within the folds of his cloak, and motioned for the boy to follow.

* * *

Once the wizard came out of the tunnel he found his two fellows standing by the door, one was lounging, the other impatiently tapping his foot. The body of the old man had been moved. He climed out and the boy followed.

Seeing the boy, his shaggy companion, smiled his sharp canine's glowing.

* * *

In the dead of the night, near the small Welsh town of Wrexham the sounds of terror and death swept across the land.

* * *

You like? Tell me about it by click that pretty blue button below.

cheers _MB_


	17. Miss Me Much

**Vi: **so many question...hehheh...I can't tell you who the boy is yet just know that he is very important. And about the shaggy companion, stuffed Welsh Green for you! Dingdingding correct – Fenrir. About who attacked Remy you'll have to wait I'm afraid. Cheers hon.

**A/N: **Welcome to Chapter Seventeen! W00t! This was much fun to write, inspired actually by Vi's latest chapter of EC, kudos for Kingsley. Also for TIG (mythtig) because she fancies Kingsley.

_TIG_: Do not!

_Me_: Do too!

_TIG_: Do not!

_ME_: Do too!

_TIG_: ugg I hate you.

_ME_: I know:)

There is a DeathEater I make mention of Dorian Rosier, he is not either of the Rosier mention in the list of DeathEaters, I made him up, so hah! Also the song at the end of this chapter is _Bad Moon Rising_ by **Creedence Clearwater Revival**, god I love them. Great song, check it out. Enjoy. _MB_

**Disclaimer:** I hereby disclaim ownership of any of Jo's wonderful characters or of CCR's song...

* * *

Light

by

_mingingbent_

* * *

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

* * *

Chapter Seventeen: Miss Me Much 

_"I tears my heart open_

_I sew myself shut_

_and my weakness is_

_that I care too much..."_

-Scars, **Papa Roach**

**-**

"_Bein' rich and famous seems to have its ups and downs_

_That's the price you pay for being troubadours and clowns_

_Godzilla's halitosis it be vaporizing cars_

_Elvis up in Michigan or maybe out on Mars _

_Dance out dance out dance out to the stars_

_But livin' in the briar patch ain't what it appears_

_Sooner or later you gotta face your fears"_

- Off To See the Lizard, **Jimmy Buffet**

* * *

"Meeting now!" Kingsley Shaklebolt barked as he stepped through the grate at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. His grim features fortold little of the large, bald Auror's plight. When he was satisfied everyone had recieved word he sagged his burly frame against the mantle and sighed. Bringing up a hand he massaged his throbbing right temple slightly. It had been a exceptionally quiet week, he had the happy notion that maybe they had gotten somewhere. That they actually made some tracks on the DeathEaters. Well that had shattered spectaculary this morning. He had the intense feeling to go drown himself in a vat of firewhiskey. The flashes of the dead muggles dancing through his head. Putting that to the back of his mind, he straightened himself making his way to the kitchen. 

Kingsley took his seat and fished out the folder from his robes, placing his knarled, dark hands on top in the semblance of complacency and order. He took a pass at the others seated at the table, faces all staring avidly back at him. The last of the Order. Never in all of his years had he ever felt so old looking on those faces. There was the rigid Minerva McGonagall, her hazel bun in disaray, still HeadMistress of Hogwarts though the attendence had dwindle since Dumbledore's death. Then young, doe eyed, blonde Treiss and sharp-tongued Pierce; both exAuror's previously under him at the Ministry. Then there was the redheaded Weasley clan short George though, even youg Fred, black-circles under his eyes looking like he'd just got out of bed. Then next to Bill was his very statuesque, platinum blonde wife, Fleur. His ex-partner at the Ministry Nymphadora Tonks, pink hair sticking out in every direction sat next to Aimee Carlisle, who sat lazily betraying nothing of the feelings she felt inside. Then there was the young crowd that had followed Harry when he had joined. Kingsley had a sinking feeling with his stomach churning acidly at the thought of Harry having to see the photos.

"Kingsley!" Aimee shot him an impatient glance, _Damn that woman's keen sense of detection._

"Oh yes," He fiddled with the edge of the folder.

"We've been put on Red Alert at the Ministry again. DeathEater attack in Wales." He fiddled again with the folder that contained such awful pictures, "Six dead, all muggles, the Ministry picked it up after this was seen by the Muggle Police," he passed Harry the folder and as an afterthought said, "I'm sorry Harry, they didn't have a chance."

Confused, Harry opened the folder; imediately his face went white and he froze. When he had regained the ability to move, he shakily reached for the first and then the second.

Kingsley closed his eyes, knowing what exactly was in those pictures. Shortly after Harry finished, with a severly dazed look on his face, looking through the last of the crime scene pictures, he abruptly stood, shakily on his feet, the rest of the Order looking on.

Molly Weasley spoke first, "Harry, dear..."

"I have to go." He said in a muddled voice before disapearing.

Ginny Weasley quickly followed, hazel eyes full of concern. Hermione looked as if she would have followed too but Ron stopped her putting his hand over hers'.

* * *

It seemed to Kingsley that the world had finally stopped. The entire room was frozen. Aimee Carlisle was the first to break the spell, taking the folder from it's forgotten place on the table. As if she was looking through a photo album she went through the pictures. Her face not betraying any emotion but slight interest. She finished looking through and passed it back to Kingsley. He really hoped someone would say something. The folder was a leaden weight in his hands. 

Finally Aimee spoke, "That smacks of Dorian Rosier," her voice was sharp against the silence and no one rebuked her, "even the Lestrange Brothers, though Rabastian from my knowledge doesn't care to get his hands dirty and Rodolphus doesn't do this kind of work," Kingsley grimaced at her euphamism – kind of work – killing Muggles is what she really meant. "And I highly doubt if it was Rosier that he would do this on his own. He would have had some kind of help."

Kingsley finally got his mouth to work, it was dry and he had to clear his throat to speak. "You sure, Aimee, this is more like a, like a-"

"Kile a werewolf attack, that's what you were going to say, isn't it?" She spoke harshly and continued before he could say anything, "Is that what the Ministry is calling it?" He could feel the heat of the disgust in her voice.

"Yes." He looked around for some help, someone to imput something else, but not today. Today it was the Kingsley Shaklebolt and Aimee Carlisle show.

"Well, that's original." She snorted. "I know what your saying – Fenrir Greyback. But he wouldn't do this. He-" it looked like she was searching for the right words, "He might have been a spectater, but you don't know him like I do," he thought he saw her shiver, "He doesn't attack Muggles unless it's on the full moon."

"How do you explain this then?"

He took one of the photos and he heard audible gasps from the rest of the Order.

Molly Weasley got up then, "I'll go make some tea then."

Aimee sighed, "That – I don't know."

* * *

Harry clutched the toilet as another wave of bile rose in his throat, the bitter sickness left acid remnants on his tongue. The title was cold and sharp against his knees, and he shook violently as another flash of death burst behind his eyes. 

The letters in red marred his vision.

'MISS ME POTTER'

Another wave of nausea flushed through him at that. He faintly heard someone call his name.

"Harry! Harry!"

He faintly felt the tears stinging his eyes and cheeks, he could taste their salty debris as it mingled with the bitterness on his lips.

That someone had kneeled next to him and was talking to him, rubbing circles in his back. Another wave spilled over him and he wretched in the toilet, gagging at the horrid taste.

The tears wet his vision, he was crying for those poor Muggle children ripped apart by a monster, and their red-headed mother who bled to death trying to save them, and the father whose heart had been ripped right out of his chest, blood splattered and dried on his fear striken face. Oh gods, there was so much blood.

'MISS ME POTTER'

The voice was back again.

"Shush Harry, its going to be alright."

He surreneder to that voice and the warm body that held him so close.

Through parted, parched lips he mummured faintly, "I'm so sorry Gin, I'm so sorry. So sorry."

* * *

Aimee brought the wet cloth to her forehead. _Oh Merlin, those poor Muggles never knew what hit them._

She sighed, the metting hadn't been what she'd expected, she and Kingsley debated reasons, ways, DeathEaters for a long while – longer than she wanted to, she supposed he didn't either. After the pictures were passed around most of Order was in a sort of hazy daze. Tonks was particulary quiet and Aimee was privately glad they still had Remus waylaided at St. Mungo's.

She had finally convinced Kingsley of Rosier. She grimaced, Kingsley was the only one in the Order, well apart from Remus that knew how well she knew certain DeathEaters.

Rosier had a penchant for taking out his frustration by inflictly pain and lording over others, and he got a sick joy out of torturing Muggles, she had seen it first hand years ago and it made her sick. He was especially fond of leaving messages in blood and was fond of ancient, medieval muggle torture – long, hard, and putting the victim in lengthy agonizing pain. He liked to revel in it.

Greyback was another story, he was a sorry excuse for a creature in her opinion. He chose to attack wizards like Bill Weasley and not Muggles during the month because he got a sick satisfication out of putting them in pain, making them live with the aftermath of the attack. He attacked mostly muggles on the full moon to slake his lust and his urge for Were's to outnumber Wizard's. Poor souls like Remus Lupin were attacked for whole different reasons. Whether be they personally or relatives had soing something to make him mad or restless, he would attack usually small children as a punishment. All his moves were calculative. For all that people thought he was savage monster, he was a canny fiend. He knew exactly what he was doing when he attacked. This was not one of his schemes though she didn't doubt he was there.

Aimee's mind was whirling with ideas and reasons and the bloodied masses of torn human flesh from the pictures. And the words, 'MISS ME POTTER' were not lost on her. Surely a scare tactic.

_This calls for a drink._ Aimee padded into the kitchen, climbed up on the counter and reached up on top of the top cuboard for the Odgen's.

"Uh-hum!" The voice startled her and she almost dropped the bottle. Clutching it to her chest she turned.

Charlie Weasley was standing in the doorway.

She grinned sheepishly and batted her eyes, "Have a drink with me Red."

He raised an eyebrow at the nickname.

He helped her down, "Sure." With all that was going on, he could really use one.

She grabbed two glasses, put them on the counter and with a titter vanished. Charlie just shook his head and proceeded to pour.

When Aimee came back she was juggling a large box in her hands, heaving it on to the kitchen table she proceeded to fiddle with it as Charlie looked on.

"Can't get rip-roaring drunk without some music."

"Who said were were?"

She smirked back at him, pulling a dusty looking muggle record out of its' sleeve.

"Well I don't know about you Red." There was that nickname again. "But I certainly am."

Placing the record on the turntable and carefully putting the needle on, the record started to spin.

Aimee picked up her glass and clinked it with his, "Cheers."

Then she proceeded to down the entire thing. She shook her head widly, "Whoo!"

"That feels good." And proceeded to pour herself another glass.

Charlie watched in awe as she downed glass after glass without a flinch. Apparently this woman had a very high tolerance for alcohol.

The music danced through the air and Charlie felt a soft hand grab his.

"Dance with me Red." It was more of a statement than a question.

Charlie finally yielded to the warm, aged alcohol, the beat of the music, and her.

_I see the bad moon rising.  
I see trouble on the way.  
I see earthquakes and lightnin'.  
I see bad times today._

_Don't go around tonight,  
Well, it's bound to take your life,  
There's a bad moon on the rise._

_I hear hurricanes ablowing.  
I know the end is coming soon.  
I fear rivers over flowing.  
I hear the voice of rage and ruin._

_Don't go around tonight,  
Well, it's bound to take your life,  
There's a bad moon on the rise._

_All right!_

_Hope you got your things together.  
Hope you are quite prepared to die.  
Looks like we're in for nasty weather.  
One eye is taken for an eye._

_Don't go around tonight,  
Well, it's bound to take your life,  
There's a bad moon on the rise._

_Don't go around tonight,  
Well, it's bound to take your life,  
There's a bad moon on the rise._

* * *

well, how did ya like that! YAY! drunkness insues...well clickie that blue button and tell me how much you liked it...cheers all. _MB_


	18. Sickles for Sense

I know, I am an absolutely horrible person, I'm only just updating now...eek...you can bludgeon me later after I finish this work.

Draco: OOO YAY! Bludgeoning!

Harry: Draco what have I said about playing nice...

Draco (indignantly): As if you do!

So here it is, Chapter 18, w00t, w00t, I just realized today that Light is over 50 pages, that's uber exciting! YAY!

**Em/Vi: **I'm glad I could lighten up that day...hope you enjoy this hon.

**K McNeely: **I hope in this chapter what was in the pictures is more clear. Thankies for the review, sorry it took me so long to update.

Also, Kingsley is featured again in this chapter, I don't really see him as an explosive character, but if you went through what he has in the last week, and in this chapter wouldn't you go a little crazy?

_Disclaimer:_ What is mine is mine, what is not is not. Haven't we heard this too much lately? oiy vey...

* * *

Light 

by

_mingingbent_

_

* * *

_

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– **James Thurber**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Eighteen: Sickles for Cents(Sense)

_Its three o'clock in the mornin',_

_runnin' on adrenalin._

_What I'm tryin to say is that tomorrow's the day_

_And we've got to do it over again._

- Kick it in, Second Wind, **Jimmy Buffett**

**---**

_We burn daylight_

**- William Shakespeare**

("The Merry Wives of Windsor", Act 1 scene 4)

* * *

Remus Lupin slowly, with silent stealth, crept through Black Manor, shortly stopping in the kitchen to turn off the lights. He chuckled at the sight of Aimee and Charlie Weasley collapsed together on the small couch, near the far wall. Making sure he skipped the squeaky stair, he proceeded to make his way to bed. He was to take a muggle expression – dead tired, worn out, had the mickey taken out of him so to speak. But being at St. Mungo's had fester restlessness, and when the chance came to leave he did. Climbing upwards he searched the house for sounds with his extra-sensitive ears, it seemed everyone was sound asleep except for one. He smiled at that. A soft light, a warm yellow glow, slinking under the door way appeared in the darkness. Quickly he drifted down the hallway towards it. 

Still soundless he opened the door to view the most beautiful face bent over a folder; today's baby blue eyes scanned the file, ruby red lips were pressed in a fine line. Absently she tucked a blush pink curl behind her ear. So not to wake her to his presence, he stepped lightly over to stand behind her. He took in a deep breath and sighed, she smelled of roasted chestnuts, orange spice and home, (and all that was good in his world). Threading his tired limbs around her, he kissed the top of her head lightly. She leaned into the embrace before startling herself. Rising slightly out of her chair, she twisted towards him.

"Wotcher. You're home."

He hummed in accordance.

Before he could say much more she playfully grabbed the collar of his robes and sunk them into a cavernous kiss.

* * *

Aimee woke with an aching start. Her back cringed in pain, her head felt as if Buckbeak and his friends used it as a Quaffle. The clinking sound of dishes being cleaned thundered around in her head, and she brought her hand up to the bridge of her nose, and pinched it, in hopes the massive head trauma would dissipate. It didn't; and as if to spite her only got worse. When she tried to levy herself off the couch, she came in contact with a warm body. Turning slightly to face the person, she was greeted with a mass of red and freckles. Triggered by the visage, last night came roaring back like the L Train. She inwardly groaned, _damn I knew I'd hate myself in the morning. How much did I drink anyway? Ahh…bah humbug…who cares…_

She must have expressed her last sentiments out loud because Charlie opened one groggy eye, and then the other.

Aimee gave him her cheeriest smile yet. "Morin' Sunshine."

Something between a groan and a grumble passed through his lips.

Slowly Aimee untangled herself and left the warmth of the couch.

"Just wait here; I'll go get us some tonic."

Cautiously Aimee climbed the stairs, her coordination left something to be desired but she made it up. She even prided herself in tripping only once of the landing.

Once she retrieved the vials, she shuffled down the stairs.

Ginny was overseeing the washing of two mugs in the kitchen, "There's some coffee on the table if you want it."

"Thanks, hon how's Harry?"

The redhead turned and leaned back against the counter.

"Better, sleeping."

Aimee nodded and joined Charlie, who was now sitting up, with very cute bed-head, on the couch.

Passing him a vial, she sighed.

"Cheers Red."

* * *

Remus Lupin relaxed into his chair at the breakfast table, alone with his thoughts, it was still early for the household and Tonks was taking a shower. Sipping his tea lazily, his mind struck purposefully into what he had been trying to ignore since his hospitalization- the attack. _How could I be so foolish? – To let someone in, to be taken off guard like that?_ He reasoned they used a mild form of Oblivate on him because of the memory lapse he was now subjugated to. _I remember everything until giving Nymph her tea, and then- _then there was an unanswered void until his awakenings in St. Mungo's. 

"Good morning." Aimee mumbled conversationally, cutting through his doubt.

He looked up and quirked a smile at her dishevelled state. "Morning Aims, I discerned that you and Charlie had a night of drunken debauchery." He fought a brief tug of war game over his functions as to keep from laughing.

She gave him her patented evil-death glare, which most attributed to her brother, but Remus calculated was all her own. Where as Severus Snape could make you shudder in fear with a livid stare, there was a sparkle of glee in Aimee's as if your pain was her pleasure, and you knew without out a doubt she do it.

"Don't use that tone of voice with me mister, and find yourself a new verb to use, discern is so last century."

"Not up for verbal linguistic hurdles this morning?" He quipped.

Once on finding Aimee Carlisle again they had fallen back into their ritual baiting that had in roots in the Great Hall, hallways and classrooms at Hogwarts.

Aimee shot him a sobering look, "Not after yesterday, I'm not."

She frowned then, and flexed her back muscles, contorting in her chair.

"Yesterday, what happened yesterday?" He was most intrigued, Tonks had yet to saying anything to him on the subject.

After getting to her feet and pouring a large mug of tea, Aimee slumped back into her chair.

"Oh gods, what didn't happen? You'll be glad you were not at the meeting yesterday, Remus, Kingsley had pictures."

You could kill a whole room of kittens with the curiosity Remus now banked. Still in the dark, he pressed on.

"Still not comprehending Aims?"

She looked up from her tea, that she had become most interested in.

"Oh sorry," seeming to remember that he was there, she spoke again.

"There was an attack in Wales; Muggles, whole family dead. The poor souls torn apart limb from limb, blood, entrails, everywhere- you get the picture; and as well as being the messy scene since Janet Leigh met Psycho, there was written in blood, 'Miss Me Potter', most likely a scare tactic knowing some of these foul creatures that call themselves human."

Remus leaned back, taking it all in. His first concern was for Harry, how had the young man taken things.

"How is Harry?"

Aimee knitted her brows in visible frustration, "How should anyone take it? No, he's, I wouldn't say back to normal, but he hasn't thrown a tantrum yet or tried to commit suicide, or jumped out any windows lately. Don't forget he has Ginny's keen eyes on him and shoulder if need be."

Remus was touched by a parallel between his friend James Potter and his son, "Much like Lilly, when James' parents died."

Aimee was back to eyeballing the dregs floating in her cup. "I suppose so."

Now that he was content Harry was safe, he moved to a testier ground.

"What is the Ministry saying?" If he was correct, Remus knew the Ministry would have taken a stance on this immediately.

He glimpsed Aimee grind her teeth, clench her jaw, and then her fists. The mug looked haggard by her iron grip.

"Bastards, they are calling it a dark attack."

But by the malice in her voice, he _knew _exactly what kind of dark attack they were calling it.

"Figures," he muttered under his breath, feeling immediately tired and run over.

"But I've told Kingsley with my knowledge it could not have be Weres. Most likely that scum Dorian Rosier. Greyback was probably there but I highly doubt he orchestrated such a thing."

"So," Remus took another sip of his tea, "What else did I miss?"

* * *

Luna Lovegood brushed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and beamed at herself. She had just managed to navigate her way through Grimmauld Place's front hall with out startling Mrs. Black into another rant about impotent sons and mudblood filth. That in itself was an accomplishment but she had just come from a meeting with her father about the Quibbler, and piled precariously in her arms were current as well as back issues of the Quibbler, and the Daily Prophet. 

Just as she rounded the corner into the sitting room, she collided with a much taller Harry, who immediately scrambled to help.

"I'm sorry Luna, didn't see you there."

"No, that's okay."

Harry flashed her a wide smile, and bent down to pick up the last of the papers, and Luna immediately felt her stomach lurch and twinge, Harry's green eye growing wide in disbelief.

_Attack in Wales, Six dead…_

_Six Muggles in Wales were brutally murdered in a small town in the Welsh countryside, the night before last. A poor helpless family was torn to shreds in the dark of the night, for no other reason except that they were of the non-magical persuasion and there location, so in other words, they died for naught. While the Ministry in maintaining that it was an attack by dark half-breeds, an anonymous tip has led us to believe differently. A strange message appeared above the mangled bodies, as there was no Dark Mark floating ominously above. Just this message, words in the blood of innocents, 'Miss Me Potter'. Is the Wizarding World's Golden Boy, Harry Potter to blame for this senseless act? –and furthermore who will be next? Will next time feature not just those of Muggles but of Wizards and Witches, your friends and family...?_

"Harry…I…" Luna tried to snatch the offending piece from his curling hands, and failed.

She only could observe helplessly, as he read, his face shimmering from disbelief, to anger, to remorse, and finally resting on guilt.

"Words are just words, Harry."

* * *

"If I find out who wrote this rubbish I'll…" Kinsley Shaklebolt was livid, and rightfully so, his face had skewed in so many directions over the past minutes as if it could decide which kind and what level of mad he was. 

After reading the appalling article that passed for news in the Prophet, he had summoned for the Editor, next he had sent one of his underlings off to the Minister about the leakage of information. It was still ripe within him, no-one but the Order, the Minister, Kingsley, his fellow top Aurors (of which there was only three, excluding the ones in the Order), and his own secretary new of the message. Well that and the muggle police but a nice Oblivate had helped them there. By the gods, he would find and mutilate the rat who leaked that, if he got his hands on him first; position and reputation, be damned. He knew one should press forward with decorum, but by gods he didn't have to be quiet about it.

His secretary took the brunt of most of his antics, before Mr. Hardpoole, the Chief Editor of the Prophet showed his ratfink face.

"Mr. Shaklebolt?" Mr. Hardpoole was clearly confused.

"What in the name of Merlin's beard is this?" Kingsley kept his voice to a dull roar, slamming down the culpable piece.

Mr. Hardpoole was a sallow man, with deep-set eyes who Kingsley wouldn't trust as far as he could throw him, but he only flinched slightly at the outburst, giving the appearance of being either dumb, or stupid. He fished out his reading specs, rubbed them unhurriedly on one robe cuff, before slipping them on the squat bridge of his broken, blotchy nose.

His eyes lit up gregariously upon recognition, "Oh, I see. This was quite the talk at the office."

Kingsley fought the urge to strangle and silence the man with a good hex, and he hadn't spent even seven minutes with him.

Again restricting the volume of his voice Kingsley spoke again, "Who wrote it?"

Mr. Hardpoole looked up from the piece, and appeared to be remembering.

"One of our seasoned writers, a fellow by the name of Lenar Kvestock, Russian born and raised, young man, 30 or so, charismatic…" Hardpoole trailed off for a moment before snapping back. "Why?"

"I want to see this Kvestock about the information he received; and as from now I forbid as Head Auror any more of rubbish or rubbish of similar tastes to be printed, unless you bring the copies to me before the printers."

"I am regrettably sorry you brought me here for this," Hardpoole's voice became insipid and squeaky, "the Minister of Magic is the only one who has the authority over printing and as a journalist Kvestock is under pact to never reveal sources."

Hardpoole flashed what he thought was a smile, "Otherwise how would we get any first hand accounts, eh?"

Kingsley fought the urge to be finished with the rodent, his dark fists shaking with anger, hidden behind the desk. Kingsley had already planned a slow, painful death for Hardpoole, Kvestock and all parties involved.

_Today_, he reasoned, showing Hardpoole out of his office, surprised that he hadn't jumped the man with something short of the Cruciatus, _was going to be another long day_.

* * *

When Tonks arrived for work, Kingsley had been staring at the Immigration and Citizen file on Lenar Kvestock for the past twenty minutes. He hadn't opened it, but had left it on his desk with the rest of the horrid Ministry paperwork, to mull while he cooled down. 

When Tonks came through the floo, he explained as calmly as possible about the morning's follies. He observed as she took in his meeting with Hardpoole, and worried her bottom lip.

"Wotcher, Kingsley, we go after this one, no?"

His face broadened with most satisfyingly evil grin.

Kingsley was almost ready to Apparate to the Ministry, he and Tonks had arrived at Kvestock's address only to find it was a cleverly hidden (double-mirror wards, and disillusionment charms) abandoned building. Disgusted that he had to waste more time on this, Kingsley rounded on Tonks, who didn't deserve it, but was better equipped than most to take on his ravings, having been his partner since her inception, suggested that they take a look into this Lenar Kvestock.

Returning to Auror Headquarters they found that sort of questioning his co-workers, Lenar Kvestock did exist, but only on paper. They could find no one who had even met him, the only thing they could tell him was, 'Oh the man who writes for the Prophet'. Kingsley had even contacted the Russian Ministry, but when nothing turned up there he was spurred into action. Hell, action was more his style to begin with. So, with Tonks in tow, they headed for the Downtown Offices of the Daily Prophet. They had a bone to pick with a certain chief editor.

* * *

Aimee had finally given in, and broke under the pressure. She had finally agreed to play a game of chess with Ron Weasley. Not that she particularly want to, but it was either her or Remus, and the werewolf had this miraculous way of disappearing of the face of the earth when he wanted to. Everyone else had either declined with good reason or had already played him once. So that meant she was entrenched in a mini-skirmish with Hogwarts supposed Chess King. Although it was vastly quieter and the pieces were kindlier than last time she had sat at a board of Wizard's chess. But then she wasn't fourteen and he father had charmed the pieces to bleed or eat their opponents. 

"Knight to E6." She watched mildly as her knight smashed into one of Ron's pawns, the redhead didn't even bat an eyelash. She was never much good at chess anyways, she'd much rather wing it.

As Ron heavily contemplated his next move, Aimee was distracted by the flip of brittle pages. Charlie Weasley was stretched languidly on the couch near the large far windows, hair still wet from a shower, reading what looked like to be a very medieval text. He scratched his nose with a finger and sighed softly, and Aimee felt the start of butterflies tremble in her stomach. She knew the feeling, hadn't felt it in years, and in effort to squash the very nice tingling in her body she got when thinking on a certain redheaded dragon man, she thought of Severus in a two piece. Yep, that did it every time. Now she just had to wipe that very disgusting metal image from her head.

Ron was winning, Aimee wasn't putting up much of a fight, but she tried to look as if she was half interested.

She heard a rustle from the other side of the room.

"Tea, anyone?" Charlie announced after getting to his feet.

"Yeah," both Ron and Aimee muttered almost simultaneously.

He was back, right before Ron called check on Aimee's King, three steaming mugs in hand. He placed two on the runner board next to them, and proceeded to go back to his couch.

Aimee flashed him a bright smile, but he just gave her a withered look.

"I am still not talking to you, as you are the cause to my head feeling like it's just been through the cycle of a muggle washing machine."

Aimee picked up her mug and laughed, as Charlie hid himself behind his book.

* * *

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